The Innocent
by The Grasshopper
Summary: COMPLETED. A dark, modern retelling of the original tale.
1. Moonless Night

The streets of New York were dim and smoky that evening. The general atmosphere of the city held fog and pollution... known as the waste of Manhattan that flooded the less fortunate parts of the city. There was a breeze, a slight lift in the air that settled comfortably and gave warmth where there seemed to be none. The streets were deserted. Most people who lived on this side of town knew not to leave their homes after dark. The inside lights from complexes were obscured by torn, broken blinds, or by heavy brown curtains that shone red in the drugstore lights. A storm had passed. There was still thunder in the distance and water that glistened like crystals on the black roads and alleys. Unlike the other parts of the city, this one was completely silent. Every once in a while there was the sound of a person yelling, or someone closing their windows as the dew began to settle, those being the only sounds interrupting the night air.   
  
A girl hugged her arms tightly as she made her way through the streets. A long maroon coat, impeccably clean, and barely dragging the ground, enveloped her small frame. Her light blond hair contrasted sharply with her black-gloved hand when she brushed it back from her face. The fancy black boots she wore clicked sharply on the pavement as she made her way to a subway stop that was still blocks away. Her skin was pale, translucent, which made her blue eyes bright, naïve, and beautiful underneath the inconsistent streetlights. She was young, far too young to be by herself in a neighborhood in which she obviously did not belong.   
  
There was disturbance somewhere behind her. She heard loud sirens, growing louder and more desperate by the minute. She paused in her quick pace and glanced behind her, with that usual human curiosity many are gripped by at some point in their lives. It's the same kind that urges everyone in the car to stop and look when there's a car accident. But there was silence now, the sirens were moving away. The girl frowned, shifted her bag to her other shoulder, and continued on her way.   
  
As she passed an alley she heard a soft noise. It sounded like metal against metal. Again, she stopped. She leaned to see better, and two yellow eyes stared back at her. She drew in her breath, carefully, and came closer. The cat (or what she assumed to be a cat) did not move. Its eyes were leveled above hers, far above, and she imagined that it must be perched on a ladder. Until it moved.   
  
A rough arm grabbed her and turned her around sharply. She barely had time to struggle before she felt someone behind her and a knife pressed against her neck. She did not move. She did not breathe. The only sound she made was a soft whimper that quickly died when the grip around her tightened.   
  
A long moment passed that way before she closed her eyes, drew a trembling breath, and tried to speak. "Please..."   
  
"Be silent." The voice was soft, but it was a command. She heard the threat that continued silently after those words. If she made any sound, she was dead.   
  
She was silent. A hand moved to cover her mouth, and it was ice cold. Whoever held her was strong, far stronger than she was...even if she shifted slightly, he was there to hold down any quick movement she would try to make. She heard a steady drip of water as it fell from a nearby ladder. She also heard the sirens coming, and they were getting closer. Voices became tangible, again in the distance, and she wondered why he stood so still and didn't try to get away, but held her tightly against him as the policeman neared the alleyway with flashlights. The edge of the light brushed the circle of darkness in front of them. The knife slid so that it covered the whole front of her throat. If she breathed in too deeply it cut her a bit. It would only take one cry...one word from her and they would hear... One more step that the policeman could take, and the flashlight would catch a gleam from the knife. Her mind pleaded silently, begged, screamed...but the flashlight moved away...and she was left in the darkness once again.   
  
The voices moved away.   
  
She felt as though she was there for an eternity...waiting...anticipating when he would decide that it would be best to kill her and leave her there...   
  
He moved. She felt something rough against her hand, and realized that it was his jacket. It was long and black, though she only saw a piece of it, and only for a moment. Then he turned her, almost too quick for her to react. She closed her eyes, an instinct, before she realized that she didn't want to see him. If she saw him, surely he would kill her, she couldn't look at him...   
  
The man did not oppose to this at first. He took her arm, she was facing him, but he turned her so that she was next to him instead, and he began to lead her out of the alley. Voices became prominent again. He moved her slightly closer, and his voice still held that note of command. "Open your eyes, and if you give any indication that something may be wrong, you will condemn more than yourself."   
  
She opened her eyes, and the helpless situation gave a new air of hope when she saw that he was wearing a mask. It was black, and she could not see his eyes. He held her arm tighter and led her out. She went with him, stumbling just slightly, her legs felt rubbery...like a doll's. She watched him as they walked, in a subtle way that would not gain his attention. He was tall, a hood covered his hair, and he moved strangely...with a grace that she would not have ever noticed in anyone else, and was shocked at herself for noticing in a situation like this one.   
  
They did not pass anyone, and she did not try to get away. His hand held hers so tightly... she was sure that her arm would break if she attempted to twist away. They did not walk for long, but she realized with alarm that they were heading away from the area that she knew. Buildings became less inhabited, more run down, and spaced further apart. She began shivering at one point and couldn't stop...the fear was overwhelming. He only glanced down at her and did not speak.   
  
Soon he paused at one of the abandoned buildings and started to lead her inside. For the first time she resisted. She sobbed and pulled, her voice cracking, "No, no!"  
  
She didn't want to go down there. The darkness was never-ending, and she believed that if she went into it she'd never come back out again.   
  
The man was unrelenting. He pulled her until she staggered down the first steps. When she tried to dig her heels into the dirt floor, he picked her up and carried her the rest of the way down. The air smelled rank, and old. It was mildewed, and the rain had flooded the bottom level. He seemed to take no notice as he carried her through, but was entirely unphased. This frightened her more than anything else...and fears began to circulate more than ever in her mind. This man must be a sociopath, those policemen were intent on looking for him...She thought, and in her fear she actually turned her head so it was against his arm. The poor girl could not stop her mind from conjuring up grisly murders and horrible torture he must have inflicted upon his victims. She did not look up until she felt another cold draft; she was terrified of seeing skeletons.   
  
There was only darkness now. A lamp was lit, and they were still moving.   
  
She spoke again; her voice was thick with tears and panic. "Where...where are we going?"   
  
"That is no concern of yours." His voice was not harsh, as she expected, but still quiet. There was an odd note to it that she couldn't quite place. But it made her fear dissipate a bit, despite his answer.   
  
He set her down now, and she was relieved that it was not in water. The air was freezing. The man took off his coat and placed it on her shoulders. She shrank back as he did... but her body, against her will, welcomed the warmth and she did not protest. She told herself that she was too afraid to speak again. She watched the man again; he was slightly in front of her. He wore all black, but in the dim lamplight she saw something odd. It seemed darker in one area...and the area was spreading.   
  
She drew in her breath, her typical reaction with blood, and she heard her voice before she realized she was speaking. "They got you?" It was a childish question, her eyes were wide, and his gaze met hers as he turned...but she still did not see his eyes, it was disconcerting.   
  
He stared at her, as if he was looking right through her. She saw no expression, just the hard, black mask, and she felt terror constricting her stomach again. When he did not answer, she spoke again, her voice no more than a whisper... "Aren't...aren't you going to stop the bleeding?"   
  
The tone in his voice sounded like amusement. "I intend to. Are you offering to do so for me?"   
  
This baffled her. "No...but...you should take care of it soon..." She had a motive. If he stopped to take care of it, it could buy her time...until she decided what to do. But her concern, however, was genuine. She felt no compassion for this man, but she felt the need to heal wounds or to make sure whoever received them was all right. This was easily seen on her face, she could never hide her emotions.   
  
If she could see his mouth, she was sure that the man must have been smiling, but it was a strange smile, indulgent...as if she was younger than she was. "You wish to make sure that I will not bleed to death? Why?"   
  
"Well...because..." She felt herself shrink and she took a small step away. She might have gotten away with it had her eyes not flitted away, and he took her arm again to prevent her from moving any further. "It is the...humane thing to do."  
  
He laughed. It was not a nice laugh, and it sent chills down her spine. The darkness in his voice frightened her, to the point where her legs were shaking all over again. "I do not believe in humanity."   
  
He was a sociopath. She pulled a bit on her arm, weakly, and with no results. She cried out softly, but said nothing more, and they continued.   
  
It became darker as they went, and the light was dimming. The man did not appear to have any trouble seeing, and the few times he looked back at her, she could see his eyes flash in the darkness. He held steady, even as she was certain he must be in some sort of pain. But he didn't seem to take any sort of notice. He was like an unstoppable monster, she thought, as she trailed behind him as far away as possible, which was not far since he still had her arm. If only they were on the streets...right now she would call out, loudly, for anyone to hear...  
  
Call... A sudden lurch in her gut made her gasp. He paused, and she held her breath, her words soft... "I...I'm only tired." She was lying. She was sure that he knew it...but he said nothing.   
  
As they continued, her other hand slipped inside her coat, to the pocket where her cell phone was. She pressed the button to turn it on. It made a slight sound...the phone was on vibrate. Her hand froze, but the man didn't seem to have heard. She waited a few extra moments before moving to find the buttons. They didn't make any sound as she pressed them...she just hoped that she was pressing the right ones...Then she pressed send.   
  
The monotone beep resounded in the dark cellar. The man spun and grabbed her arm, jerking her close. Within a second the cell phone was in his hand, and in another it was gone. She cried out as he pushed her against the wall. It didn't hurt, but he held her there. She could see his eyes now, reflected in the light. They were red, and bore into her like two pinpoints. She held fast for one more moment, and then began to sob. As her tears flowed freely, she became aware of the man's hand against her neck, and she started to scream...until she realized that he wasn't strangling her. His hand was there, almost to comfort, moving her hair away from where it had caught when he spun her. She opened her eyes and looked up at him, pleadingly. Surely there had to be some compassion in him... "Please...please don't kill me..."   
  
His hand stopped. He looked down at her, but there was remorse in his eyes...for a moment, she knew that she saw it. He answered her quietly, but she nearly fell from relief. "I will not kill you."   
  
Her breath shuddered. "Then let me go. Please..."   
  
"Soon."   
  
He moved back and held his hand out for hers. She looked at him for a moment, but then took it. There was no other option...all she could do was hope that in the end he was truly merciful. He continued to lead her through the darkness, and she began to wonder if it would ever end.  
  
But she was silent this time; her head was bowed so that she watched the ground and her feet as they dragged on the cement floor. She did not see that he kept glancing back at her this time, his eyes mellowed. She felt numb all over, unreachable, and distant from the world.   
  
She saw the stairs ahead of them. At his gesture she walked up first, her hand on the banister, squeaking against the metal as she climbed. Her legs barely obeyed her, and halfway through they finally gave out. He caught her easily, and then helped her up the rest of the way. When they reached the top the first thing she saw was the lights, and she had to look away when they hurt her eyes. They were almost in the city; she heard loud voices of people only blocks away.   
  
He watched her, and was obviously expecting her to run. She didn't move, she felt too shocked to do anything but stare.   
  
He moved back, his hand disappearing from her grip. "Goodbye, Innocent. Find the police to take you home." He disappeared, but she did not watch him leave.   
  
Christine did not move for a long time. 


	2. Time for Tea

Whiskers wanted attention.   
  
Christine was jarred from her thoughts as the cat's soft head rubbed demandingly against her hand. She was sitting by the window in her apartment, the window that overlooked the park. It was a beautiful day; the trees were starting to really look green again, winter was finally over. She smiled at the cat and held it close to her, feeling the warmth and it was comforting... She hadn't felt warmth in a few days, not since...the ordeal. She read the story in the papers, she'd even seen it on the news...but none of them knew the real story, at least not what she knew. None of them even knew who he was.  
  
Christine had not seen the entire broadcasting. She didn't want to connect victims to this man, or realize that he may have actually killed people. She didn't want to cope with the guilt that she hadn't yet told anyone what happened. Not even the police...though she believed to have good reasons for this! After all, he might find her...and seek some horrible revenge, perhaps the same that he inflicted upon those poor people...whoever they might be. No, she would not tell. Instead, she would go about her daily routine and try to put the entire night out of mind... Though so far it wasn't working. His voice haunted her in her sleep, in her dreams, and sometimes the dreams were nightmares. It was strange, though...even in her worst dreams his voice didn't frighten her, it wasn't threatening, but he was still there...and she was afraid...   
  
She signed wearily and stood. Whiskers followed about by her ankles, meowing persistently until she picked him up again.   
  
"Whatever am I going to do with you?" She smiled, absently, and cradled the cat in her arms. Christine lived alone, Whiskers was her only constant company.   
  
She wanted to call her parents...but they would urge her to go to the police. She had heard that New York was a dangerous city before she moved, but she never expected anything to actually happen to her. It made her wish that she decided to lived on campus instead of seeking out an apartment...ironically; she thought that a nice apartment would be safer.  
  
Ray tried to convince her otherwise. She was considering moving now just to be closer to him. She would feel safer that way, especially after everything. Ray had been her boyfriend for a few months, ever since she started at Columbia. Though lately his calls were the ones that she dreaded the most. She started a wall between them by not telling him what happened...and she felt that it was growing higher with each conversation. She only hoped that he didn't notice... One of Christine's greatest fears was losing Ray. She hadn't ever had a boyfriend before, or anyone who cared for her like he did. He was patient, loving, attentive, and she knew that she was lucky to have him there... With all her heart she wanted him here now. It wouldn't take that much effort to move closer...she would be within walking distance, just across campus!   
  
Though somehow she doubted that she could fit her things in the dorm rooms.  
  
Christine's apartment was neat and orderly. It was the sort that was seen in a magazine... There were a lot of creams and off-whites. It had an ethereal feeling about it. It wasn't big by any means, although her parents had money and they weren't afraid of spending it, she had simply insisted on a homier place. And even though she didn't need to, they always wanted her to work as well. Her father believed that it built high character. It was because of his insisting that Christine waitressed at a very classy restaurant nearby, a "French" café. Her apartment was nice, comfortable, and she even had a balcony attached to her room where Whiskers liked to perch in the evening and watch people pass underneath.   
  
She set Whiskers down and he immediately vanished among the white pillows. She was about to sink down next to him when the phone rang.   
  
She sighed and returned to the main room, where the phone was pulled over by the window seat. She sat cross-legged and picked up the receiver, shivering as a slight, unexpected chill took her. "Hello?"  
  
"Hello, Innocent."  
  
Her breath froze, her mind froze, and the room temperature dropped at least 10 degrees more. She shuddered again with out realizing, closed her eyes, and felt her hands tremble. She heard herself ask a question to which she already knew the answer. "Who are you?"  
  
"Surely you have not forgotten me so quickly. Though we barely met...I was certain I'd left an impression." There was laughter in his voice, but it only increased her terror.   
  
"N-no...I haven't forgotten..." She stood quickly to look at the base of the phone, where the caller ID was...if she could get a number...  
  
His voice stopped her. "Don't bother trying to figure out where I'm calling from. I assume you'll know the number well enough. I have something of yours."   
  
Christine stopped, and she knew immediately that he was calling from her cell phone. She hadn't even missed it! She drew in her breath sharply and her pulse accelerated to even higher proportions. She didn't answer him this time...instead she paced in front of the window, falling over her cat several times.   
  
His voice stayed exceedingly polite. "Would you like for me to come by and return it?"  
  
With every word she was shaking more and more. She spoke softly, but quickly. "No, no...I...I don't need it back...I can just get a new one...and cancel the service...you can have it, actually."  
  
"How generous of you. Tell me, how did you ever end up on that side of town?"  
  
She wasn't sure if she should hang up or just tell him. Though the idea of having idle conversation with a murderer was terrifying in many different ways. She couldn't forget what he must have done, what he almost did to her... But for some strange reason she didn't think that he ever had the intention of harming her. There were numerous other possibilities, however, and some of them made her shudder all the more. "I...I had an art show..."  
  
"An art show. Private home, I assume. I don't believe that there are many public art shows in that area. Unless they're on Columbia's campus. You're a student there, aren't you?"  
  
No. "No..."   
  
"You're lying to me. But it hardly matters, does it?" He sounded bemused, non-threatening, though she was terrified. He knew where she went to school. He had her phone, the numbers of all the people she cared about... And if he wanted to, he could find every one of them.  
  
She started to speak, and stopped again. Her voice was shaky on the second try. "What do you want from me?"   
  
"Nothing. Though I did notice that you haven't gone to the police...still... In fact, you've been in your apartment all day...my Innocent...don't you ever grow bored? Come out for a walk. We can have tea."   
  
At this point Christine was as far away from the window as she could possibly get. Her eyes darted from both sides of the apartment, and she carefully tried to keep her breath steady. She asked again, almost desperate for an answer, just a name even... Something she could tell the police, before it was too late to go. "Who are you?"   
  
"You will never know. Or perhaps one day you will. But until then... Goodbye, Innocent. Don't be late for work." Click.  
  
Her gaze fell on her "Bonjour!" uniform with a feeling of impending doom.   
  
She wouldn't go into work that day. She set the phone down quickly, missing the first time and having to fumble to replace it. After a long pause she picked it up again, and dialed Ray's number. Her hands were shaking almost too hard to press the buttons. She could hear the blood rushing in her ears, and she held her breath as she waited.   
  
He answered on the third ring. "Hello?"  
  
She exhaled and breathed his name in a sigh. "Ray...its Christine."  
  
"Christine, hey! What are you doing, sweetheart? I'm just getting finished with my sketches. I'll bring some over and show you after you get off work...aren't you supposed to be at work now? What are you doing? Is something wrong?"   
  
Christine took a breath. If there was one flaw in Ray, it was only that he couldn't wait for her to answer one question before he asked another. "I need to talk to you about something." The fear was weighing down her heart too heavily, she did need to tell someone...and as soon as possible...  
  
Ray's voice was concerned now, but sounded muffled to her ears. "What is it? Tell me."   
  
She didn't speak for a long moment, and her fingers twisted in the phone cord. Whiskers meowed again and looked up at her in a curious way. She sat in the window seat again, like before, but made sure first that the curtains covered any view from outside. She wanted to tell Ray everything...from the beginning to end...  
  
But Christine couldn't even gather her thoughts. She couldn't make sense of what happened to her, of why it happened... or why he let her go... She knew that she still posed a threat to him, at least a tiny threat...although she would never be able to point out what he looked like to anyone, or recognize him...not unless he moved... She hadn't ever seen anyone else move that way...  
  
"Christine?"  
  
She quickly gathered her thoughts and cleared her throat. "I'm here, Ray." She surprised herself at the steadiness in her voice.   
  
"Talk to me...you're worrying me."   
  
She sighed a little, but the will to say anything was once again gone. She bit the insides of her cheeks to keep from crying, until they stung and she tasted something metallic. "I'm sorry, I...It's nothing. I'm just stressed about my grades."   
  
Her grades were fine, but she could think of nothing else. Christine was an atrocious liar, though luckily that was something Ray hadn't quite caught onto yet.   
  
"Oh." He sounded unconvinced, but Ray disliked conflict, so he moved on quickly. "I'm going to come by and see you in a few hours, okay? Don't go anywhere."  
  
That was a given. "I won't." She wanted him to come straight away. Being in her apartment alone was terrifying now...the fact that he knew where she lived...that he could be watching her... The safety she always felt was gone. Her heart sank and she took another deep breath. "I'll see you soon."  
  
"'Bye, love."   
  
"Bye, Ray..." She heard him hang up, but Christine held the receiver long after he did, waiting for the gentle hum of the dial tone. 


	3. A Ribboned Rose

Christine heard the knock on the door even as she was still watching out the window for Ray.   
  
She jumped back and dropped the lacy curtain in place, as if she had been seen. She hadn't taken her eyes off that street for the past ten minutes...and she knew that Ray had not come inside the building.   
  
Christine sank down on the window seat and watched her door. She drew up her feet so that if the person decided to look underneath, that they would see no shadow. Her heart pounded so hard that it vibrated against her knees, and she shook as if a permanent chill had taken over her body.  
  
The knocking came again. She jumped and clutched her legs tighter, pressing her face against her knees so that her breathing was silent. The knocks came evenly, one right after the other. Christine was growing more and more frightened...she knew for sure now that it was not Ray. Ray would have called to her, or he would have tried the door to see if it was unlocked. She knew Ray.   
  
The doorknob rattled.   
  
Christine shut her eyes tightly to block out the sound. She needed to ignore it...just ignore the knocks, ignore the rattling, ignore it...if she ignored it, it might go away...  
  
Silence...  
  
Christine's eyes opened, just a little. After waiting a few long moments she finally eased herself off the window seat. She had no intentions of opening the door, but the peephole...if she could see who was there, at least... It could be no one except her landlord, and then wouldn't she feel smart...  
  
She made her way to the door in a very slow fashion, clutching a pillow that she brought up from the seat with her. She hesitated for a very long time outside the door, and curled loose threads from the pillow tassels in between her fingers in the same way she had the phone cord. Finally she rose on her tiptoes and peered through the peephole.  
  
The hallway was completely empty.  
  
Christine blinked in confusion and shifted; so that she could see further down the hall...but she still saw nothing.   
  
The knock resounded directly next to her head.  
  
Christine fell backwards against the wall, stunned, and knocked over a bowl that held a bunch of small candies. They scattered across the floor, and she pressed herself against the corner of the door and the wall and held still.   
  
Minutes passed and no more knocks came. Christine felt like all the blood in her veins had turned to ice. She gulped a few breaths, her lungs burning as though she was drowning... she couldn't manage to catch her breath... Finally she backed away from the door and went to her cat, which was curled up in a content ball on the table. She gathered him to her and kissed the white fur. Her eyes never left the door.   
  
Several minutes passed before another knock came, but she still nearly screamed.   
  
"Christine?"  
  
Ray. She set Whiskers aside and quickly went to the door. She started to say something but he was grinning at her in that triumphant way that made her pause.   
  
"I have your cell phone! Did you realize that you left it at my dorm?"   
  
~ * ~   
  
That next Tuesday, Christine went into work.   
  
She wrapped her coat tightly around her. Although winter was over, the icy chill was still present in the mornings. Her hands were warmed by a mug of coffee, so she could leave her gloves behind. She kept her head ducked and did not look at anyone in the face. When she left her apartment, it was nearly at a run. She didn't want to meet the eyes and know, in that moment, whose eyes that they belonged to.   
  
She took off her coat as she entered the café and hung it up in the kitchen. Her manager came around and grinned at her in his common, friendly way.  
  
"Christine, I was hoping that you would come back into work. Half our employees here don't value good service. Are you feeling better?"   
  
Her smile could not reach her eyes. She put on minimal makeup for her job, but her beauty and smile charmed Mr. Torono anyway. Christine could have used this to her advantage if she wished, but she hardly noticed. "Yes, very much, thank you..."   
  
"I don't think that we'll have a lot of business today. Holiday. Everyone goes and sees relatives and they cook and whatnot. So why don't you just stay in the back and I'll cover for you for now. I'll call if I need any help."   
  
Christine nodded, though she was all too relieved not to work the tables today. She smoothed the skirt of her outfit and went to the back.   
  
The kitchen was small and empty. She turned on the water and carefully gathered the dishes next to her. She used a bit of dishwashing soap. They had a dishwasher, but Christine did not use it. She needed to calm her nerves.   
  
All too quickly she was engaged in the soapsuds. She heard a small commotion outside, and she knew that more customers were coming in. Pretty soon he would need her help, and she sighed as he called her directly in time with that thought...  
  
She dried the dishes quickly and went out. Sure enough, there was a small crowd gathering. She started to go to the first table but Mr. Torono stopped her by taking her arm. She looked at him with surprise but stopped when she saw his face. He looked concerned...   
  
"Christine, someone came in and asked for you."  
  
She blinked at him, her first assumption was that it was Ray, but she waited for him to continue.  
  
"I told him that you weren't working the front today. He said he'd come back. I was going to tell him that it was against our regulations to wear masks of any sort inside, but..." Mr. Torono trailed a bit and looked confused, as if he couldn't remember why he didn't ask this question, or what the outcome was.   
  
At the word "mask," Christine's attention was immediately and completely on him. She knew now who stopped by, and although she should have been terrified, she was beginning to expect these small occurrences. It was strange...that he was toying with her this way...scared her on purpose. Why was he doing this? Did he have a motive? Was he just messing with her now and did he plan on killing her later? Somehow she still did not think so. But why did he still wear a mask? That seemed to her as though he was trying to keep himself a suspect...and it would be a much better idea if no one recognized his face...much better for him, anyway. She wouldn't have recognized him...although...perhaps he wanted her to, for reasons she still didn't know.   
  
She finally looked back at Mr. Torono and forced a small smile. "Thank you for telling me."   
  
He looked at her, and seemed as though he wanted to say something, but then just nodded before gesturing for her to get to work.  
  
She did, and she was on nonstop call for nearly two hours. In that time, she nearly forgot about the masked man, about what happened to her, and about all the terrifying things that happened in the past week or so... nearly.   
  
As she left she took her coat down, and something fell from the pocket. Christine looked at the object on the floor for a long time before kneeling to pick it up. It was a rose...the thorns had been cut off, and there was a pure white ribbon tied around it. She almost expected the rose itself to be white, but it was a deep, dark red. An intense color that almost made her blush...Christine knew the meanings of the rose colors...and she knew red. Rather than scaring her, it only confused her all the more. She knew who put it there; she knew that it wasn't Ray...  
  
She turned the rose around in her hand for a few moments, buttoned up her coat, and went home. 


	4. Candles and Death's Head

Message from the Author!!! (Yes, there is a chapter after this!)  
  
Hey guys! Thank you SO much for all the reviews!!! I loved them! Feel free to keep them coming, it gives me motivation! ;) To answer some questions... Hehe. So who DID have Christine's cellphone? Well....Erik had it. How did it get to Ray? Hm...something to think about! I'll let you decide that on your own!  
  
As for the Rose colors...  
  
Red: No colour can say "I love you" better than this Valentine Favourite. It not only speaks of passion, but also stands for noble values such as respect and courage.  
  
Pink: In general, symbolises grace and gentility, The pink carries that message of happiness. Deep pink says "thank you". Light pink conveys admiration and sympathy.  
  
Peach: Conveys sociability and friendship, modesty, appreciation, admiration and sympathy.  
  
Golden Yellow: Expresses joy and gladness - the best gift for new mothers, newlyweds or graduates. They are also a subtle reminder for a busy husband, wife, boyfriend or girlfriend.  
  
White: Has several special meanings - "you're heavenly", reverence, humility, innocence and purity, "I'm worthy of you", secrecy and silence. In rose history, white roses are just as colourful as red ones!  
  
Orange: Denotes enthusiasm and desire. Perfect for letting people know that you want to get to know them better.  
  
I bet you're thinking that it would make more sense for Erik to give Christine a white one, right? Maybe. But he has his reasons. And since when does Erik give white roses, anyway?  
  
~*~  
  
There was nothing unusual about that particular Friday evening. It had been nearly three weeks since she'd found the rose in her pocket, and besides a general feeling of being watched (and she attributed this strictly to paranoia) the man seemed to have disappeared. It was as though things were starting to go back to normal. Ray continued to come by with his pictures and she'd laugh with him like before: whatever wall had been there briefly was gone now. He didn't suspect anything was wrong, and because no one else had any idea either, Christine finally found the ordeal easy to put in the back of her mind.  
  
She was artfully arranging flowers in a vase on one of the restaurant tables when Mr. Torono nudged her arm. "You have a customer in the back. He looks like he leaves good tips if you make his day." He grinned and winked at her. On normal occasions this would have minimally disgusted Christine, but today she was in a particularly good mood and she returned the smile brightly.   
  
She picked up her writing pad, took the pencil out from behind her ear, and set off for the back.   
  
It was a beautiful little restaurant. Most people chose to eat outside because of the small garden-like area, with a fountain and stoned pathways that traced along the side of the building. It was a haven in the middle of the city, and was always crowded recently because of the nice weather. People rarely ate inside, and when they did, it wasn't in the back. They usually tried to get a table up front so that they could at least be close by the warm atmosphere, or watch the people go by. In the back it was darker, since candles only lighted the café. Christine almost found that area a bit eerie.   
  
She saw the man from the back. He was sitting in one of the booths. She lowered her eyes and stopped by the side of the table. "Thank you for coming to Chez Pierre, what can I get for you first, monsieur?" She raised her gaze to the man curiously.   
  
Something deep inside her chest constricted.   
  
As she met the man's eyes an electrical current seemed to pass through her. The gaze she met were of the most vivid green...like nothing she had ever seen before... Though she knew, even without another moment's pause, that she had seen them. But what she remembered was the glowing red in the dark... They were not the same eyes, but she knew it was the same man. She knew as soon as she saw the mask, and Christine could not move. For a few moments she just stared at the man as though she half expected him to disappear. When he didn't, Christine began to feel as though she would panic...but then...his gaze was so calm, collected, and yet...there was a darkness there that frightened her, far more than the amused smile on the visible portion of his face.   
  
"I was not aware that you were French, Innocent. Though I hope that your vocabulary strains beyond formal address. I would find that very interesting, and entirely charming."  
  
Christine's mouth opened, but her eyes dropped again and she fumbled to find the right words. Once their eyes were not locked her awareness returned. But she felt his eyes on her...burning into her...and for some reason it made her cheeks grow hot. "I'm not French."  
  
"A pity. I've heard much about this restaurant, however... Would you care to recommend anything in particular?"   
  
She paused, still unable to uncover from the disbelief...and the fear...he was sitting right there...she could feel the power that radiated from his composed gaze and she knew just how vulnerable she would be to him. She saw for the first time that his hands were long, elegant, and such a pale white she would almost expect to see green veins underneath. But it was porcelain sort of white... He was dressed all in black, but not in a way that would be seen as the modern day trashy, and it wasn't quite gothic either, but they were nice clothes...ones that fit him well and he seemed to know it... She remembered how tall he was in the cellars, but only now did she notice that he wasn't even muscular by any means, but lithe... The recollection of his strength perplexed her. He had been so strong.   
  
She felt his confidence, his ruthlessness... and by the way he looked at her she knew that he knew...she was staring at him...  
  
Christine blushed even more and struggled to gather her thoughts enough to answer. "Actually I...I'm fond of...I like everything...everything's good..."   
  
He smiled at her, in a strange, almost devilish way that she did not understand. "One day I will be sure to taste everything. For now, the tea is enough."  
  
If there was a double meaning in that, Christine was all but oblivious. She nodded quickly and wrote down the order; gathering the details from him while her hand was steady enough to write. She walked calmly back until she was around the corner, and then made a mad dash for the kitchen, leaning back against the door once she was inside and taking great breaths of air.   
  
There was something horribly wrong with this situation. She needed to call the police on him, and tell them that he was here...that he was stalking her...that he wouldn't leave her alone...that he was who they were looking for...   
  
But...why wasn't she? What was stopping her now? Could it be the possibility that perhaps it wasn't what she thought? Maybe he was running from the police for another reason...he didn't have to be the murderer that they were looking for. Christine still had not heard the whole story, but she knew enough to know that the person they wanted killed people. She also knew, after looking into his eyes and seeing the murderous hatred that lingered beyond the indifferent gaze...he was a murderer. She knew. And even though she was still afraid, for the first time...it wasn't for herself.   
  
Christine took a deep, rattling breath, and forced herself to go about making the tea. Her hands shook as she stirred, the metal spoon clinking in a way that made her spine tingle. She still lingered in the back after it was made; she was terrified of returning for more reasons than one...  
  
"Christine! Are you still getting that man's tea? Since when have you become so slow?" Mr. Torono was watching her from the doorway now, and frowned at her in obvious displeasure.   
  
It would be so easy to tell him! Christine was desperate to say something, her hands were shaking, and she had to hold the teacup tighter so she could hide the involuntary tremble. She bit her lip, very hard, but shook her head and spoke quietly. "I'm sorry...I'm going right now." He stared at her curiously, but she lowered her eyes from him, and with that she moved past and returned to the man's table.   
  
Christine set the tea on the table; she did not wait for him to take it from her. For once she was glad that the cup was nearly too hot to touch, and she could have the excuse of not moving too close to his hands because she did not want to burn them. Though with a strange feeling, she doubted that he would even feel the sensation.   
  
He looked up at her, and again his gaze made her stop. He smiled again, but whether it was a genuine or mocking smile was still hard to tell. "Thank you very much, Innocent. I suppose in a certain way that we did get our tea, didn't we?"  
  
Christine was unsure if he actually meant for her to answer, but she nodded, stupefied. Still, the nickname he had employed for her finally seemed to register, and she stammered a bit while speaking. "My name is Christine."   
  
He smirked, and she realized the absurdity of the information. If he knew where she lived, as well as where she went to school and where her boyfriend was...not to mention that her name was in her cell phone, and also in addition to the fact that she was wearing a nametag... "I'm well aware of that."  
  
Christine nodded, and started to step back to go, but when she made the mistake of looking up at him again she found that she could not.   
  
"I am very grateful to you for not running to the police about our small encounter... I mentioned that to you over the phone, did I not?" The man shrugged, gracefully... Christine had never seen anyone actually shrug in a graceful manner before... "Either way. I will return the favor for you eventually... I always give back what is given to me. The same applies for the other way around as well..." His smile held something in it that again was hidden from her, and at the words she felt dread, as if she was being pulled into some dark, submissive situation that she could not yet see.   
  
"You're welcome..." She felt inane for saying that, after everything, but she could think of nothing else.   
  
"And to think that I know your name and you do not know mine. You must forgive me. You may call me Erik. If you give out my name to anyone, keep in mind that they will not recognize it either way. I go by many names."   
  
Christine nodded and asked no questions. She stared at this man called Erik for one more moment before looking away. "If there is anything else that I can get for you..."   
  
He waved her away, his hand curling in a gesture of smooth dismissal. "Go back to your light. It is far too dark for you in this part of the restaurant."   
  
She didn't know whether to be insulted or confused by this remark. She choose to be confused, it was her popular emotion as of late. However, again she did not reply. Instead she left, quickly, and did not return to that part of the restaurant until it had been long enough for him to finish his tea.   
  
Erik was gone when he returned, but three gold coins had been placed strategically onto the table, overlapping each other. She knew that they were gold because of the way that they felt, and the fact that there was no actual printing as there would be on distributed coins like pennies. Instead, carved in the center, was just a rose. They were old, but shiny, and she held them heavily in her palm for a long moment and pondered the meaning of them... Why would he leave her these instead of a normal tip? Though of course...she was beginning to realize just how...not normal this man was. Why was he still wearing a mask even now? Did he know that she could pick him out just by his movements? She had never seen that sort of grace... Christine sat for a moment at the table that he had been at and turned the coins over.   
  
A death's head was imprinted on the back.   
  
For the first time tonight, she did not share the results of her tips with her coworkers. 


	5. Pale Half Moons

Nother Update!! Hi! Okay. Yes, I realize that Erik isn't quite into seducing Christine yet. But I like to build character and scary situations first. The seducing comes later. Heheee. Was that a hint? Maybe. However, there is some seduceage in this chapter. A little. Dun. I hope you enjoy. The reviews really motivate me! Expect another chapter soon! I'm back in my tangent!  
  
~*~  
  
It was quite possibly the strangest relationship Christine ever had with anyone.   
  
The man...Erik...came into the restaurant every other evening at eight o'clock. He knew not to come the evenings she didn't work. He knew her hours. He always waited until she had no one else to wait on, so that he could take up all of her time. Christine was baffled by this new development as much as she was by everything else. When her boss wasn't looking, she found that she was pausing to talk with him, even sit for a moment if he asked her a particularly long question. He refused to answer questions about himself; they all must pertain to her life and her own situation. He hated talking about himself...that much she understood about him quickly. Everything else was simply a mystery. It was as though he didn't exist...until he decided to pull her from that alleyway one dark and dismal night.   
  
He always ordered tea. She poured it with delicate deliberateness, and tried not to notice that he watched her. His eyes were always watching her...it was unnerving, and yet it made her face grow hot, as if it mattered to her what he thought.   
  
"Why did your eyes look red that night?" She'd asked once, only after she dared to bring up anything to do with what happened.   
  
"They looked that way because they were."   
  
Christine hated those cryptic answers. At times, she forgot to be afraid. At times...she forgot who he was... Erik became only a man, and a very graceful one at that. It was hard to remember the crimes while she was watching his hands...his long fingers curling around the porcelain cup... How could hands like that be capable of the malice she heard about? How could he?   
  
His eyes were all that betrayed him. When she looked into his eyes, sometimes it was as though the Devil himself stared right back. And yet...some of the looks in his eyes...she found that she could only stare and not look away. It was strange. It was disconcerting. Christine did not like it one bit. She found that she held her breath when he took the cup from her, she allowed him to take it now instead of setting it on the table. But his hands never touched hers, and with that she was relieved. She didn't know what she would think about feeling that coldness again...that dead cold that was somehow far beyond dead.   
  
"I haven't seen your boyfriend come in here very often." Erik never spoke Ray's name. And when he said "boyfriend" it was the same way that people would talk about something diseased.   
  
She was about to answer in his defense, but then she realized that he was right. In fact...Christine was beginning to pick up extra shifts at work. She never used to do that before, one shift had always been enough. She needed time for schoolwork and for other things...for Ray...but she'd been neglecting him the past two weeks at least. She found herself thinking more about being at work than about seeing him...   
  
She avoided Erik's eyes for the moment, and kept hers trained on the teapot. "Yes, well, I've been busy here. I need to make enough money for the next semester."   
  
"I see. It must be expensive... Though I don't imagine that it's quite that much of an endeavor for you... Your father is prominent in the music industry, is he not?"   
  
The things that Erik just knew no longer surprised Christine. "Well, yes, but...I like to pull my own weight. It's the way I was raised."   
  
"A very noble way to live life."   
  
Whenever he spoke, Christine couldn't help thinking that his tone was slightly condescending, and she looked at him for a moment as she tried to figure it out. "I guess so. How were you raised?"  
  
Erik's eyes moved up to hers, and she felt an unexplainable coldness. His gaze was icy, dark, and she realized right away that she had asked the wrong question. "I wasn't."   
  
"...Oh."   
  
His eyes softened just a little, and he studied her thoughtfully. "Sit for a moment, Innocent. We'll talk."   
  
Christine hesitated...She wasn't on a break, but there was no one else to serve. She sat carefully, and folded her hands. Occasionally the thought passed her mind that she was seated across from a murderer, but it didn't terrify her like before, it was simply something to be considered. However, she took an extra precaution last weekend by going to the pound and buying a dog. A very big dog.   
  
Erik simply looked at her for a long time, but as he leaned forward she found herself entranced for a frightening moment, her hands on the table becoming numb. "Now... We must move on from this traumatic event in our past. I am sure that you realize what I'm talking about. I'd like for us to be friends."  
  
"Friends..." The word was strange, and he was staring at her with such intensity that she felt her heart starting to pound. He must be able to hear it...but it wasn't with fear...she didn't know what it was from...  
  
"Yes. Friends." Erik's hand lowered, and she felt his fingertips brush against her hand. He was hardly moving, but she knew that he felt the contact too, and his hand didn't move...it only shifted, very slightly, against hers, brushing along her knuckles. She felt the slight chill...the cold...but it wasn't the dead cold that she remembered. It was relaxing, serene, something to be savored...   
  
She looked up at his eyes and felt a peace she hadn't in many weeks. She saw him smile, and knowingly. Almost a sinister smile, as if he could see her thoughts and felt triumph in them, or that he knew something she didn't yet. Christine was not pulling her hand away...his hand moved over hers completely, brushing her wrist, and her fingers curled together tightly. This wasn't right...but he was just touching her hand...it was nothing. But... she could see the look in his eyes, and she knew her own thoughts. His hand moved up further, nearing the curve of her elbow. Christine shivered and rather abruptly broke the contact, her arm jerking back to her side in one, quick movement.   
  
Her words trembled, and she spoke angrily. "Sir, I don't know what you mean about being my 'friend', but..."   
  
Erik laughed and stood, the coat over his shoulders in a movement she didn't even see. "Oh no, my Innocent, do not believe I would ever take advantage of you in that way. You see...even though I am a murderer, you will found that I'm a respectful one. You must forgive me, but I was temporarily...distracted." He looked at her in a way that made her flush a bit and put her hands behind her back.   
  
"Try to remember yourself." Christine heard the chilly tone in her voice, and she immediately regretted it. All he had really done was touch her hand... and it wasn't as though she'd stopped him right away...   
  
He bowed eloquently, in such a way that didn't make the gesture mocking, only graceful, and Christine found herself watching him again. "Of course. Good evening."   
  
Yet even after her coldness, Erik did not seem angry, or even show the slightest bit of hurt. In fact, he gave her that same deliberate and slightly unsettling smile as he left. This time she looked away, and once he was out of sight her head dropped down into her arms.   
  
She felt exhausted...and she realized that her heart was still pounding.   
  
The cell phone rang.   
  
Christine screamed a little, startled, and then giggled nervously when she realized what it was. After pausing a moment to catch her breath, she answered, "Hello?"   
  
"Christine? Hey." For some reason the voice surprised her, and it took her a moment to distinguish who it was. She felt even worse for not knowing right away...how could Erik have distracted her that much?  
  
"Hi, Ray... I was just thinking about you." It was true. Erik asked about Ray in the beginning of their conversation...   
  
"Really? I've been thinking about you all day. I miss you. Where've you been?"   
  
"I've been working." Christine sat up straight in the booth and watched in the direction that Erik left. She had, for half a minute, believed that it was him who was calling. Often lately he'd do that...speak to her briefly about the weather, or something else equally casual. It was strange, but he seemed to think that it was amusing. Still, she could ask him no questions, or the conversation would end. And more often than not, she found that she didn't want it to end.   
  
"Working this much? Why?"   
  
Oh. Ray was on the phone...   
  
She paused, silently guilty. "I... need to."   
  
A pause on his end, and she heard a note of aggravation in his voice this time. "Why? Why do you even need that job? Christine, your parents have plenty of money."  
  
"So?" His aggravation made Christine slightly defensive, and her tone turned bristled. "That doesn't mean that I don't have to help them a little bit at least."   
  
"Still. You don't need to work that much. I never get to see you anymore..."   
  
The pitiful note in his voice made Christine relax a little, and she sighed. "Ray...how about this weekend? We can see a movie. In fact, if you ever want to stop by work..." She nearly cut off, but at the last minute didn't. Still...if Ray showed up at the same time that Erik did...for some reason Christine envisioned that as a horrible situation. She didn't want them to meet. She wouldn't be able to hide the strange attraction, and she wouldn't want Ray to see it. Christine needed to get over it herself... It scared her more than his crimes did.   
  
"A movie sounds great! Okay! Great! I'll look it up and give you a call about it. Are you at work right now?"  
  
"Yes..." She was about to get off, but she left that part out. Christine felt too tired to see anyone else tonight...far too tired...and she wasn't sure if she could get the redness in her cheeks to go away before Ray saw her.   
  
"Oh," Ray sighed, his voice thick with disappointment. "Well...I'll give you a call tomorrow."  
  
"Okay!" She forced a bit of cheeriness in her voice. "'Bye, Ray!"   
  
"Bye, Christine. I love you."  
  
That made her smile. She paused, leaning back against the booth, and her reply was softer. "I love you too."   
  
Yes. She most definitely loved him.   
  
It was then that Christine noticed the little half moons imprinted on the inside of her palms, and she wondered with confusion how they came to be there. Her fingernails couldn't have...  
  
"Christine? Christine, Are you there?" 


	6. Icy Darkness

Note from the Author:  
  
Helloooo! Yes, I know that I said that I was back on my tangent. I guess I lied. =(. Exams got to me and made it impossible to write anything else but final essays. However, this is an interesting chapter that I hadn't planned on writing before, it just popped into my head one night at home. But I think that it helps things develop a bit. Expect more in the future, most definitely. I do not leave things unfinished. I'm a writer. Thank you for all your reviews and criticisms, and while I expect the indigence of why Erik isn't seducing Christine fast enough, I just have to say this in my defense: Seduction leads to mushy. I no like mushy. I write mushy when I have to, and I turn the other way when I do. My sort of seduction is in a more subtle way, and through other means than JUST touching, or even music. However, there is.some touching in this chapter. So. I'm not straying from original seducage either. Just be patient. It's a spoonful of sugar at a time! I'm trying a lot of new things here, so bear with me. But this story is far from over.  
  
~*~  
  
In the days after, Christine immersed herself in watercolor. It was easy to forget everything when she lost herself in the brushstrokes, her blond curls pulled back into a messy ponytail. She worked in the studio at Columbia, and while she told herself that it was because she had access to more materials, she knew the true reason. Christine could sit for hours at a time and paint, either brushing up on old sections or starting anew on one corner of the canvas. The painting was far from complete. It was a landscape: Christine had found out quickly that she hadn't the talent or the patience for portraits. She could depict features, and the details were nothing, but the human gleam in the eye was difficult and something she hadn't mastered. For now, she stuck with flowers and fields. The painting she worked on now started out as a basic glen, with yellow dandelions and sad weeping willows. However...she was beginning to discover that it was gradually changing. She was using darker colors for the sky, until it was nearly black, and the clouds of an impending storm shadowed the field until the flowers were nearly invisible.   
  
On this particular night it was storming. Christine tried not to notice as she painted, but her canvas was set up directly next to the glass window and each time that lightning struck, she jumped at least a foot in her chair. She had pulled a large lamp over to her worktable, and while the light was harshly bright, it did not light the whole room. Shadows dominated the furthest corners. Until now, Christine was never weary of the dark, but she found herself distracted from her work to constantly glance over into the black recesses.   
  
A loud sonic boom made her scream. She dropped the paintbrush, the black smearing the floor, but barely missing her pants. Christine sighed, rolled her eyes at herself, and bent to pick it up. And as she did, she could have sworn that she heard a soft laugh.   
  
Christine sat up so quickly that she nearly hit her head on the lamp. Her eyes flickered from one side of the room to the other. Her voice was a whisper, and betrayed the terror that she tried so desperately to hide. "Who is that?" She paused, and a pleading note entered her voice, a sound that almost made her wince. "Erik, you had better not be trying to scare me!"   
  
She tried to reassure herself that she had spoken to this man many times, laughed with him in fact...like a friend... But the idea of being somewhere alone with him, in the dark and in a thunderstorm, made all of her courage melt away like ice cream on a July afternoon. She hadn't been alone with him since that night.   
  
"Erik?" Christine whispered again, and as the last of her breath died away, the crack of thunder signified the buzz of the power as it dimmed and went out.   
  
Christine sat in the dark for a long moment, and gripped the paintbrush as if it was a knife. The windows she sat by emitted no light; they were nearly as black as the room. She sat, motionless, on the stool in front of her canvas, and mentally counted to ten.   
  
One...  
  
She knew her way around this room. She could get out in no time at all. Hopefully the doors would still work...they only opened if you had a University card...surely they would open to let someone out despite being electrically powered...  
  
Two...  
  
And what if they didn't? She would be stuck here, until the power came back on or until the morning...surely the power wouldn't be off long. She was in New York. Of course, it was not a good part of New York, but it was New York nonetheless...  
  
Three...  
  
No. It would come back on. It had to. She couldn't be here in the dark and by herself for long...  
  
Four...  
  
Was she alone? Was that breathing in the room or was it her own? It was impossible to tell, her breathing was becoming louder... She couldn't panic here...and alone...   
  
Five...   
  
Christine eased herself off the stool, and she held the counter as she stumbled a bit to regain her footing. The door was straight, around a few canvases and walls, around the corner, and down the hallway a bit...  
  
Six...   
  
It wasn't completely unreachable. She could manage. Christine started forward with one arm outstretched; her fingers curled like a doll's. She felt nothing yet. But that was to be expected...the next canvas wasn't for another few feet...  
  
Seven... was she on seven?  
  
Her hand struck against it. She moved around the canvas, carefully, and prepared for the next, which came only a moment later. Now she needed to find the wall... At this rate, she would be out in no time!   
  
Eight...   
  
Her hand brushed something cold, and she paused. The wall wasn't for several more feet...was this an extra canvas? She reasoned with herself, silently, that it had to be... There was nothing else it could be... She moved her hand up, slowly, and touched something hard and smooth.   
  
Nine...   
  
Whatever she was touching moved. Christine gasped, and drew back, her arms flinging up in an instinctive gesture of self defense... But something else grabbed them and held them down.   
  
Ten...  
  
Something snapped, and Christine twisted and turned in the stranger's grip, her voice a cry of primitive frenzy that she hadn't ever heard before. "No! Let me go!"   
  
A light, amused voice broke through her hysteria, and for some reason it calmed her more than anything else ever could have. "I have no desire to be painted black, thank you."   
  
It was then that she realized that she was still holding the paintbrush, and she dropped it wearily. Her voice was almost a sob, a child's plea. "Erik... Take me out of here, I hate the dark!" She clutched at him now, unnaturally but without thinking. Her only fear was the dark. She had no mind for what he did, for what happened, or for anything to do with him at all. He was her protector now, and her savior. He could help her...that was all that mattered.   
  
His voice came soft, from above her head, and his hands were gentle on her arms. She held tight against him, as if afraid that he would disappear if she let go. "You are safe. You left your things on the table. Wait here."   
  
"No!" She held tight, the hysteria becoming prominent again.   
  
Erik paused, and she saw the slight glow to his eyes once more in the dark. It wasn't eerie at all, but held a strange sort of comfort now... He wouldn't leave her... She knew it.   
  
And he didn't. Erik held onto her arm as he moved back to the table and took her things for her. Then he guided her from the dark studio while she clung onto him, in fear. She was aware that he did not move his other arm to feel in front of them, when she couldn't even see the shadows of objects. Somehow, she was not surprised that his vision was like a cat's, it had been similar that night under the theater. She remembered everything perfectly, and she knew it now...but she was still not afraid. The grip he held on her hand was not one of a murderer. He did not say a word, and there was no mockery of her fear. Although she did not consciously admit it, she knew that Ray would have teased her until the end of time.   
  
As they reached the doors she felt the cool draft of air, and thought for a moment that he might have overlooked her jacket, but then he set it about her shoulders with careful ease.   
  
She didn't pull away yet, but turned and looked up at him. He was, as always, wonderfully dressed. He was wearing a cloak tonight, and she only now noticed that it was soft and velvety to the touch. His mask was black, as always, and she saw for the first time how perfectly formed it was to his face. He was handsome...why would he bother with a mask? It wasn't the first time the question had crossed her mind, but she didn't even have to ask herself the question. It only increased his mystique, and the intrigue that she was sure many other women had besides her... though the idea of other women around him made her feel strange.   
  
Christine smiled, just a little, almost shyly and with a bit of embarrassment. "Thank you... I guess I must have made a fool of myself...to panic like that..." Even as she tried to make fun of her own situation, she heard the shakiness in her voice.   
  
Erik regarded her almost clinically, and then he stepped back and gestured for her to walk with him. It was not the way that she normally took, and she hesitated a moment before following. He did not speak for a few long moments, and his voice was oddly gentle when he did. "What do you fear in the dark?"   
  
Christine shivered and held her coat tighter to her, fiddling with the buttons as a delay to answering the question. But his eyes bore into her, and finally she shrugged, her voice weak. "I...don't know... I suppose it's because I can't see what's around me." She spoke again quickly before he could answer. "I know that there's nothing there that isn't there in the light, but it's the idea of it...that something can be there and I wouldn't know it..."   
  
"I see." He seemed to understand, but she watched him now. As always, his expression was unreadable, except for the intense look that always inhabited his eyes... "And what else do you fear, Innocent?"   
  
She answered honestly, candidly: after what he did for her she felt that he deserved it. "Death. Dying... But everybody does, I guess, if not consciously than subconsciously."   
  
His tone was absent, and again he was not looking at her. Oh, what she would give to know what his thoughts were at times... "Perhaps."   
  
Christine glanced at him again, and although she knew that he would not answer, she asked the question anyway. "What do you fear?"   
  
Erik laughed, richly, and looked at her in a fond way that, for some reason, thrilled her a bit. "I do not think that you would believe me if I told you, my Innocent. Just assume that I have none."   
  
They had already reached her apartment and she had no idea how. Surely they had not been walking that much already. She paused, and he continued to smirk when he noticed her confusion.   
  
"I have many ways through these streets, surely you know that."  
  
Christine knew, though she would have preferred that he not bring it up. She didn't want to be reminded again, when she could not overlook it so easily. She wanted to be his friend...something about him now made her feel safe, strangely enough, but it was true. He would never hurt her, she was sure of it. It was very dangerous to be sure, but she saw no threat in his eyes, no matter how hard she looked.   
  
She paused in front of the door to her complex, and raised her eyes a bit to his, though they faltered a bit before actually meeting them. "Thank you for bringing me here...and for what you did."   
  
Erik was still close to her. She felt his hand move up and touch her face, tilting it to look at him. His hand hardly touched her skin; it was almost as though her head was lifting on its own accord. Her blue eyes met his then, wide and unassuming. His fingertips were like ice, but they sent chills down her spine that were not because of the cold.   
  
His voice was soothing, hypnotic, and she couldn't move away now even if she wished to. "You know that you have nothing to fear from me." His lips hardly moved, but the voice was unmistakably his.   
  
Christine heard her whispered, "yes..."  
  
Erik bent closer, and his lips touched her cold cheek. She didn't move, but her eyes shut as she allowed him to kiss it gently. His breath whispered against her skin as she held her own. He did not move, and she felt everything at once...the heat of his breath and the chill of the mask. His hands were very still on her shoulders, keeping her to him but in no grip that she could not get away from if she tried, and she did not. She felt the chill of his body close to her, but the heat of the cloak enveloped them both for a moment, and in that moment she could not distinguish what was him and what was the cold air. Her eyes stayed shut tight, and the blond curls were freed from their ponytail and held gently back by Erik's other hand. His lips were suddenly not still on her cheek, but brushed over her skin, kissing her again, so close to her mouth that her lips tingled in anticipation.   
  
An alarm bell went off in Christine's mind, and she turned her head away quickly. Her eyes shot open, and she was immediately pushed into harsh reality. The cold air was very real now, and gave her the strength to move away from him. She kept her gaze shifted, afraid to look back into those eyes again... or to be drawn into the dream... She couldn't be. Because of Ray, and because of herself as well...   
  
She drew in her breath to speak, but no words came. Christine whimpered softly, and then turned and dashed into the complex, nearly falling up the stairs in an effort to get away. She only made it to the top step before she sank down and began to sob. She allowed this man to almost kiss her, and she had a boyfriend! How could she have allowed such a thing? Christine tried, vainly, to blame it on Erik... After all, he practically hypnotized her! He tricked her into it! But she knew that she was lying to herself, and she gave up. Instead she remained curled at the top of the stairs, crying until her heart was broken with guilt.   
  
But someone else, unknown to her, witnessed this betrayal. And while Christine was lost in misery, this man walked on with seething anger, intent to follow this man called Erik.   
  
This man was only able to trail him for a mere ten feet before "Erik" disappeared into thin air. 


	7. Angels and Jesters

Note from the Author:  
  
Hi there! A quick update this time, since I fear ducks. I realized that I didn't answer some questions for the previous chapters, and I will now. Or rather than some questions, some...wonderings. As for a Nadir, I had not considered it...but if I decide that there is a place for him in the story, and there very well might be. Well...let's say that I AM considering it. It's a brilliant thought, and if I decide to use it, I'll be sure to mention your name! Oh, I've seen Phantom of Paradise, and to be honest...it scares me a little bit. However, I do enjoy some moments of the film. As for Erik not allowing Christine to be with Ray. well. Erik has his ways. About the mask drawing attention-If you can remember, in a previous chapter the owner of the restaurant seemed to briefly forget the mask. People see it, but Erik is very talented at making people see what they want to see, and he sits in the back of the restaurant. This story will stay in Christine's POV, most likely. If you have any more questions, feel free to ask! But thank you for the reviews, I REALLY appreciate them. All your support, praise, and criticism has me thinking and trying to do better on the next chapter. Thanks! Hope you enjoy!  
  
~*~  
  
Christine wasn't sure what woke her first: The light emitting from the bedroom curtains, or the pounding on her door.   
  
She sat straight up in bed and clutched the sheet to her tightly. The German Shepherd on the floor next to her growled low in his throat, and she glanced over at him with a slight surprise. He seemed gentle with her; she hadn't ever heard him growl before...   
  
Whoever it was knocked again, and she got out of bed after snatching her robe from the chair. Christine still felt half asleep, and she tucked her hair behind her ears to look a bit more presentable. She took small, measured steps towards the door, slipping the robe on and tying the sash around her waist. Christine paused a few feet from the door, her arms creeping up to wrap around herself, before actually speaking. She didn't want to make the mistake of looking through the peephole again. "Who is it?"   
  
"Ray."   
  
Christine relaxed and took off the chain. She opened the door in a quick, happy movement. "Ray! I-" The dog behind her started barking, loudly, and she turned. "Lobo! Hush!" But he wouldn't stop. Christine sighed and slipped outside into the hall instead, closing the door after her. "I'm sorry, Ray, he doesn't really know you..."   
  
His voice was quiet, and sounded oddly not amused. "Lobo?"  
  
"The shelter named him that." Christine looked back at him again, smiling, but it faded once she saw his expression.   
  
Ray was staring at her, in a hard, angry way she didn't even realize he was capable of. His dark eyebrows were knitted together, and his mouth was a thin, straight line. All the youthfulness of his face disappeared with the angry expression, and for a moment she hardly even recognized him. Ray didn't speak, he didn't say a single word...but he didn't have to.   
  
Christine's hand moved to her throat, a gesture that betrayed her immediately. He knew, and he knew that she knew...that he knew. It was a horrible moment for the both of them, as they stared at each other in silence.   
  
She was the first one to break the stare, and looked away as her eyes filled with tears. "Ray...I'm sorry, I...I didn't want him to..."   
  
"Maybe not, but you let him." His voice was unforgiving, accusing, and she backed up a bit.   
  
"I didn't realize at first. I pulled away! I would never do anything to hurt you, Ray, please..." Christine came forward again and raised her hand to his cheek, but he jerked away from her touch.   
  
With his head turned away his eyes did not meet hers, and Christine found it easier to look at him. A nerve was twitching in his jaw, and in his voice she heard far more anger than hurt. "All this time...when you've been working so much...you've been seeing him, haven't you?"   
  
"No!" It was not altogether the truth. Erik came into the restaurant nearly every day lately, but he was wrong to think that she worked just to see him. "Ray, no, he's only a friend!"   
  
Ray's voice dripped with mocking sarcasm, and he looked back at her eyes. "Oh, right. A friend that kisses you goodnight."   
  
She felt her heart lurch, and against her better judgment she felt the sensation of the kiss again... "I did not let him kiss me. It was only on the cheek."   
  
He shook his head, unconvinced. "It was a kiss, Christine. I saw the whole thing."   
  
Christine blinked, and her arms again crept up to hold herself. "You were spying on me?"   
  
Ray shook his head in disbelief and laughed. "Spying verses cheating...let's keep this in perspective, if you don't mind."   
  
She felt a chill, and the tears began to overflow onto her cheeks. Her voice was nearly at a whisper now. "I wasn't cheating on you... I don't feel anything for him...I love you, Ray. I only love you!"   
  
His voice was cold, and made her heart break down the middle. "I don't believe you. You forgot me too easily to let some guy I didn't even know about kiss you. Why shouldn't I think that this hasn't been going on for some time?"   
  
Christine reached out and took his arm tightly, her voice a sob, and for once she was not ashamed of her pleading. "Ray, no! I promise you! I never did anything with him...not ever. That was a mistake...It'll never happen again, Ray! Please don't be mad at me, please..." Though as she met his unsympathetic gaze, she felt herself falter at her words. In a moment, there seemed to be no caring in the way that he looked at her...not even a trace of the love that she thought he had... and she felt a cold stab of doubt.   
  
He appeared to be considering it, as if he enjoyed watching her grovel...and her desperation. "Then don't see him again. If you really love me, you'll do it. Not even as a friend."  
  
Christine did not say anything for a long moment. There was a strange pressure on her chest, and her throat felt funny...as if she was fighting back something. She looked away from Ray, and was shocked at a feeling of absolute dislike that washed over her like poison. She shuddered and took her hand from his arm. Her voice was weak, defeated. "If that's what you want."  
  
~*~  
  
It was not hard to avoid Erik, for after that night her cell phone was silent, and she had no guests at her work. Except for Ray, who hung around by the door and waited for the masked man. She was uncomfortable with him there, when he walked her home, and entirely uncomfortable when he suggested that they move in together. She wasn't ready for that sort of commitment, and she told him that...which, in turn, made Ray sullen and withdrawn for the rest of the week. But she didn't give in. Besides, Lobo hated Ray and made it very clear whenever he came over.   
  
It was during this time that she began to miss Erik, and with an intensity that shocked and frightened her. He was a like a drug, she came to realize...and without him something was painfully in want. Each time the door opened to the restaurant, she wanted it to be him...and when it wasn't, she felt a deep sense of disappointment. She would assume that he lost interest in her completely...if it was not for the occasional rose that she found, either by her door or next to her paintings. She wanted to see him, talk to him...and at least tell him that she could no longer see him...but Erik did not appear.   
  
The time for the yearly Masquerade came around. Ray was the one who knew of it. City blocks in Manhattan were closed off for a party that lasted all night. It was not Halloween, and there was no real occasion for it. The only reason that Christine could come up with was that it was something to keep the people in New York busy and spending money. Ray wanted her to go with him this year, and while she was hesitant at first, she eventually gave in. Parties weren't usually something that she enjoyed, but her relationship with Ray needed to be rekindled...she was losing sight of it somewhere. So after only a bit of persuasion, Christine agreed.   
  
He helped her pick out a dress for the occasion. It was all white, gauzy, and he joked that she could have worn her curtains and looked just as beautiful. As an artist, she helped paint the wings, which were nearly translucent and intricate, patterned lace. The dress was velvet on top, a flattering cut and off the shoulder, but it ended as silk, floating about her legs like a cloud. Long, weaving sashes were sewn to her arms, so when she held them apart they seemed to be a second pair of wings. Her hair was left down, in its own natural curls, and her mask was plain white...so that it would not draw attention from the costume. Ray was very pleased with how she looked, and it was obvious that he could not wait to show her off at the party.   
  
Ray decided to go as Jack the Ripper, and he thought this idea to be extraordinarily brilliant. The idea was a bit chilling to Christine, for her boyfriend to play the façade of a murderer, considering all circumstances...but she said nothing, and only smiled and encouraged his idea. He wore a suit, top hat, and a cloak that only reached his knees. He also carried a walking stick with a dragon on the top. His mask was white, and resembled Erik's so closely that it made her nervous.   
  
Once they arrived, she had to cling to his arm in order not to lose him in the large crowd. Tables were set up with food, drink, and all of it was outrageously over priced. She was underage, but Ray found no reason not to indulge, and she drifted by his side and did not say very much. She felt uncomfortable, and the vulgar eyes of men made her feel like she was simply here to be stared at and nothing more. The streets were paved unevenly, and more than once she tripped over the concrete and her ankle turned. There was attempted dancing, and while she danced with Ray for a while, pretty soon his sense of balance was a bit off and he was stepping on her feet more and more. They were swelling inside the white shoes, and Christine's mouth would be full of canker sores in the morning from biting her cheeks in silent pain. Lantern lights were strung up, twisted about the stage where various musicians came and played loud music, entirely impossible to truly hear, and that only made Christine's ears hurt. She wanted to go home, and she wanted to go home badly.   
  
In the middle of this experience, Ray suddenly shouted gleefully, "Oh! I see Jon! I'll be back, sweetheart!" Suddenly, Ray's hand disappeared from hers and he was gone.   
  
"Ray! Wait!" Christine fought after him, but people closed in around her and didn't allow her by. With a sinking feeling, she watched Ray disappear into the crowd. "Well...that's just perfect."   
  
Now what could she do...well, the smart thing would be to wait until he came back for her... But Christine felt annoyed and left behind, and so she turned and went the other way, searching for the way that they came.   
  
A movement from the sidewalk caught her eye, a slight glow in the alley. She stopped in her tracks, nearly falling over a hysterical jester, and looked again. Now there was only darkness...but she was sure that she had seen something. Christine moved forward, slowly, disappearing into the shadows herself and leaving the party behind. She still heard the noise, but she felt as though it was through a dream as she continued.   
  
She came to a dead end in only a few feet. Nothing. Christine exhaled in a long sigh of disappointment, and stared at the blank wall as if she expected something to appear...but nothing did.   
  
Just as she was about to turn, she heard a soft voice behind her. It was dark, chilling, but with a sort of confidence and amusement that she would only attribute to one man. "Ah, Innocent, I knew you would come... You could never resist dark alleyways." 


	8. Gold Elevators

Note from the Author:  
  
Whew! I am working bunches getting new chapters up! But I had this whole vision today about plotness, so I'm kind of eager to write. Thanks a LOT for your grammar stuff, Riene, because I am the worst ever at grammar. The unfinished sentence was a mistake in c/p, but it was meant to be "To leave." I would go back and finish it, but alas, ff.net is being kind of stubborn about replacing chapters tonight. The spelling mistake was my error, and the grammar was actually my Microsoft Word's fault! But I didn't notice it when I edited, so...mine too! Ahem...I hope you enjoy this chapter. I know I kind of left off on a cliff hanger so I wanted to amend that fast. Unfortunately the end of this chapter isn't much better, but that's all I'm giving away! Enjoy! Oh. About Ray...yes, he is a typical male, freaking out over the slightest bit of competition and insult to his ego. Let's see just how far his ego takes him!  
  
~*~  
  
Christine turned with a small gasp, her hands grasping the front of the costume so tightly that her knuckles immediately ached.   
  
Erik stood only a few feet behind her, and as she drew in her breath to speak, he came even closer, his movements almost predatorial.   
  
Christine took a few steps back, and before she knew it Ray's words were out in a tumble of emotion that sounded uncertain, even to her. "I'm not supposed to see you."   
  
He paused, his hands hidden inside the fabric of the cloak which, unlike Ray's, fell to his feet and was made of the softest material. The eyes behind the mask were trained, as they always were, on her. As she watched him he began to smile, and his hand unfurled from the dark and gestured for her to come closer. "Well, it's a bit late for that, isn't it?"   
  
Christine looked away, but she couldn't ignore the silent command. If it had been spoken, it would still be the same. She came closer to his gloved hand, and felt hers rise to touch his fingertips...   
  
A small feeling of uncertainty entered her mind again, but as she tried to draw back, Erik suddenly moved and took her wrist. This time Christine did not try to get away as she felt herself being pulled to him.   
  
They were so close now...Christine kept her eyes down, averted from wherever his gaze could be. She knew, as her heart began to beat rapidly, that she could never look into his eyes and also keep her resolution. His voice was whispered silk against her ear. "Come with me, there is nothing for you here."   
  
Strangely, she had the feeling that it was not her choice to make. Christine did not speak, but Erik turned and began to lead her further down the alleyway. It was odd...but she could have sworn that there was a dead end there only moments before. She must have been mistaken.   
  
Their footsteps clicked in unison, or perhaps the sounds were only her footsteps and he was not there at all. His hand was so cold...and so still...and as she tried to keep her thoughts trained on Ray and on the fact that she did have to return to the Masquerade at one point, she kept forgetting what she had to do to begin with. Before too long, Christine could not say for sure whether someone named Ray actually existed, let alone that she was dating him.   
  
The sounds of the party became dim, clouded, and Christine forgot to hold up the bottom of her dress as well. It dragged the ground, the white rapidly becoming discolored and damp. She did not realize and pick it up again until Erik spoke, softly, and without even turning. "We are nearly there, Innocent. Mind your dress."   
  
A door opened on the side of a building, and she tentatively followed Erik inside, her hand instinctively tightening on his. Her hypnotic peace of mind was broken at her sudden rush of fear. She didn't know what to expect...some sort of horrible, violent cult...or perhaps an old building filled with drug addicts and more murderers... Finally, she raised her eyes to look around them, and she was so close to Erik that her cheek brushed against his arm.   
  
What Christine did not expect was to be standing inside the side lobby of the Plaza Hotel.   
  
She froze, dead in her tracks, and her wide eyes flitted up to Erik's in questioning. Surely he did not plan to commit a crime here... She knew without even a consideration that there wasn't any possible way for him to actually have a room here. Not with the police looking for him, or...surely not...   
  
Erik saw her confused expression and laughed gently. His hand raised to her cheek, brushed it, and even though she turned her head away, she could not pretend that her heart hadn't jumped. She recovered quickly, and instead focused her thoughts on the impossibility of the situation. "How can you have a room here?"   
  
"How can I not? There is no other place in New York worth staying at." Erik led her into one of the elevators and she glared at him a bit as he selected the floor. Even though this idea was confusing to her, it made perfect sense at the same time. Everything about him was elegant...even the night she met him, when he forced her below a dusty, old theater... She really couldn't imagine him actually living among the dirt himself, or bothering with anything that wasn't of the highest class. In the state of mind that she was in, Christine could not help but wonder if that also included women.   
  
"But... wouldn't they be able to tell that you...I mean that..." she stammered, and felt her cheeks grow hot as she tried to make a point and avoid it at the same time.   
  
He answered smoothly, and he obviously realized what she was trying to say. "No. I have my ways. Do you plan on telling them?"   
  
Christine looked at him quickly, frowning, but the tone in his voice let her know that he was hardly serious. "No. Why did you disappear?" She tried to make the question indifferent, maybe just curious, but it came out hurt.   
  
Erik's eyes turned on hers, and she felt her breath catch. It was easy to speak to him when he was not looking at her. Now she could not meet his eyes without blushing. His voice was light, almost amused. "When?"   
  
She looked away, at the numbers at the top of the elevator as they lit up. "Just these past few weeks. You didn't come into the restaurant...and you didn't call..."   
  
"I wanted to give you some time to think. You were rather distressed at our last meeting, if you can remember."  
  
Christine flushed even more, and when the elevator doors opened she marched out...forgetting momentarily that she had no idea where to go. "I remember."   
  
Erik took her arm and guided her the opposite way that she had started in. He was watching her, in such a calculated way that she almost shrank back. "Have you enjoyed being ordered around by your...boyfriend? I could almost praise his resolve. If he wasn't so horrible at it."   
  
Christine looked up at him nervously. "What do you mean?"   
  
He shrugged and opened the door for her, allowing her to enter first. "It hardly worked."  
  
She did not go inside yet, but stayed stubbornly still, her eyes narrowed. "I wouldn't be here if you had not insisted that I come with you."   
  
"I hardly needed to insist." Erik's confidence made hers wither, slowly, and she started to speak but then stopped again.   
  
Christine's voice was slightly shaken this time, almost afraid. "But I..."   
  
Erik's was gentle and alluring, a tone that pushed aside her doubts. "Come inside."   
  
Surely there was no harm in staying for just a little while, despite what Ray wanted. It wasn't as though she was doing anything wrong, and since when was Ray in charge of everything that she did anyway?   
  
Christine went inside, and she took in her surroundings as if she was in a dream. The room was beautiful, decorated with the finest of detail and decoration. It looked like a room fit for Kings, and she expected no less. The closest that she had come to the Plaza was passing in front of it, she never even expected to see one of the rooms. Her voice was breathless, almost childlike. "Is there a balcony?"   
  
Erik took her hand and smiled at her, in an indulgent way, and she followed him quickly and eagerly. He opened a set of doors and took her outside and to the stone railing. It was cold, and a gust of wind made her duck behind him so that his figure would block it. She felt at ease with him now... it was a new development that hardly made any sense at all... she was more comfortable with him than she had been lately with Ray, though she expected that that had to do with how he'd been acting.   
  
Christine finally came out from behind Erik and leaned against the railing, as far over as she possibly could. "Look, you can see the party..."   
  
He was behind her, his arm around her waist and holding her in place. There was strength there, and Christine felt a tingle in her stomach and a tightness in her heart, as if being this close to him was exciting... but it was...   
  
Christine did not move for a moment, but then straightened, until the small of her back was barely touching him. Erik's arm around her was still, and his other hand was by her side, effectively trapping her there. Christine distantly felt herself lean back, very gradually at first, but before long she was laying fully against him. His arm moved as Erik shifted to holding her closer, accommodating her position. Christine hardly allowed herself to be aware of what she was doing. Her eyes stayed trained on the lights, her ears on the distant sounds of crowd, and her thoughts on the party... But her head was against Erik's chest, and his mouth brushed her temple. Christine felt it, and in that moment she realized what position she moved them to... and yet she did not move. He kissed her hair and drifted downwards, to her jawline and then her neck, his mouth so soft that she hardly felt it at all. So light...how could she be betraying anyone with kisses she could hardly feel? Ghost kisses...the term was oddly humorous, but she did not feel like laughing now...  
  
Ray's image was skewed in her mind, she could see nothing but his hateful words to her...his possessiveness... And Erik...he was not a murderer, but someone who listened to her for weeks, who became her friend and someone she trusted...he helped her from the dark... but where was she now?   
  
One...  
  
"Erik..." Her voice broke through the reverie, soft and pleading, and her hand moved up and touched the side of his face that was uncovered. It was an instinctive movement, and she faltered, awkwardly. She had never touched him in that way before.   
  
He turned her to face him, and anything else that she might have tried to say was cut off. Before she knew it, his head bent and his lips claimed hers. At first Christine was still, very...very still...but his arms pulled her closer as he kissed her, in a way that she knew she had never been kissed before... Deeply, insistently, and yet passionately all at once. And so gently... there were no words to describe the sensation... and Christine felt even herself suddenly pressing forward, her arms moving up and around his back, holding him in an embrace and returning the kiss in the exact same fashion, if not even more... There could be no thoughts in that moment, and she knew that something was lost forever... when she gave herself over to him so completely...it was almost like surrendering her soul... But to what?   
  
Then she pulled back. It was such a quick movement that it nearly left her gasping for air.   
  
Erik was looking at her, her eyes holding an expression that almost frightened her, and his voice was barely audible as it spoke her name for the first time. "Christine..."   
  
Something was wrong. She had forgotten about something... someone... There was someone looking for her, at the party. She had attended with someone. Her boyfriend... Oh, God!   
  
"No...Erik, I can't...I'm...I'm still dating Ray. This is wrong...I can't. I have to go. Please, I have to go!" Her words were broken, forced, and she pushed his hands away with desperate fervor. She couldn't stay in a place where she kept forgetting her boyfriend's name. Though...for the first time, Christine was beginning to see that the fact that she kept forgetting Ray around Erik must mean something...   
  
Erik stopped her frenzied movements, but there was only gentleness in his hands, and the fire that had been in his eyes was mellowed, as hers must be as well. He smiled at her in a dark way, his hand gently tracing the curve of her cheekbone and lips. He knew, and she knew as well... "You will come back."  
  
"Yes...I promise, I will."  
  
Christine did not know what possessed her to say that she would be back. She had no idea what to do at all.   
  
She didn't remember actually leaving, only that she left the Plaza Hotel at a run, and did not look back until she was out the door. She did not see the figure that lingered underneath the lamplight. She did not notice until it grabbed her arm, pulled her into the shadows, and covered her mouth as she screamed. 


	9. Underneath the Lamplight

Authors Note:  
  
Aside from the comments of one particular reviewer, I very much enjoyed reading everyone's reviews and, as always, Reine's grammar and word corrections! Thank you very much! However, from what was said in "Susette's" second comment...she is not the only one who believes that my characterizations are deplorable. So, by all means, if anyone else thinks this as well, please let me know. And through Email, if you don't mind, so I know that you are a real person. Accounts can easily be made. My Email is dorothy_gayie@yahoo.com. I'm sorry if anyone does not like the way that I've approached this story...and please, "Susette", do not comment again. You've been heard. And I'm sorry to say that comments like this make me wish to take down the story completely...but I know that there are those out there who do enjoy it, and so I won't. I hope that others who read this story are more open minded about making the character of Erik a bit more intense and creepy than he was in ALW or in other versions, but please, I do not believe that I am going too far out of character. At least no further than how ALW went out of character from Gaston Leroux. But we all agree that ALW does a delicious version of Erik. Going out of character makes new things great, does it not? I simply apologize that others do not see it that way, and have, in their mind, an exact way of how Erik should be, and then choose to criticize anyone who does not show that exact way. There are some close minded people in the world, and this website is the last place I expected to find them. Thank you all, for good reviews...thank you, Susette, for reminding me that I can't be different without repercussions. I was unaware that we didn't live in America. On to the story. This is a shorter chapter than usual, but I would like to thank Still Looking for the character idea.  
  
~*~  
  
Christine's muffled screams continued for a moment more, until she felt her back strike against a bench as the person pushed her down, and then she only cried out in pain.   
  
"Shhh! Be quiet! I'm not going to hurt you!"   
  
It was a voice that she didn't recognize, and Christine realized then that her eyes were squeezed shut. She opened them, slowly, confused, and met a strange pair of eyes. They were yellow-green, cat eyes, and the man was small and skinny, and she wondered how he managed to push her down so insistently. What caught her off guard the most was the expression in his eyes...it was not threat, or anger, or any of what she expected...rather, it was concern...   
  
Christine shuddered, her voice suddenly very tiny and choked. "Who are you?"  
  
The tiny man stepped back and took something out of his jacket pocket. He was dressed in a suit, which made her think that he must be from the party. Christine recoiled as he moved, in terror, thinking it to be a gun or some other weapon that might subdue her. Instead, it was a badge, and she saw her reflected face on its surface...her own face twisted with fear.   
  
"Nathan Radford, of the FBI."   
  
Christine felt a small whisper of shock begin in the pit of her stomach and build slowly until it was in her throat. Though, by that time, it was not a whisper anymore...but a scream. She could not speak; her eyes were so wide that the whites showed all around the blue. Yet she knew, somehow, that it was her silence that might condemn Erik...and she also knew, without a moment of consideration, that this man was looking for Erik...and successfully found him.   
  
"Who were you with, Miss Daye?"   
  
"I..." Christine swallowed, felt her own limbs stiffening. How could she answer? She made up her mind never to go to the police, but she had not considered or even dreamt up the possibility of the police going to her! Yet with every stumble of words she made, she felt that she was being more and more obvious who she had been with, and where...and why...and everything else that she didn't want him to know. "A friend of mine..."   
  
"And his name?"   
  
She paused again. The first answer had been easy...but this man, Erik, had told her before that no one would recognize his name...since he went by many...so perhaps telling the name and telling the truth would not matter at all, if what he said was true. Christine found a piece of her flaxen hair and held tight, as she would when she was a child, and twisted it around her fingers. "Erik."   
  
Something in the man's expression changed, and Christine knew at once that she made a horrible mistake. He had taken out a small black notebook and was writing in it at a frenzy, but at the name the pencil was still. His eyes raised to her, slowly, his voice steady and nearly as chilling as Erik's used to be. "Erik what?"   
  
At least now she could tell the truth and not feel so awful! Christine was an atrocious liar, but she felt tears building already for not at least trying to lie to this policeman...but...she truly believed that he would not know the name! Surely Erik would not tell her a name that the police knew... but this man's expression was so strange...doubtful... as if he did not know what to believe.   
  
Christine had never been extremely clever in conscious manipulation or getting out of situations, and she had no idea what to do now. "I don't know! He never told me."   
  
A look of what may have been relief passed briefly over his face. He smiled a little and shrugged, but then his tone turned to the condescending one that Christine only heard in books and on television shows. "So you went with a strange man, to a strange hotel, in the middle of the night?"   
  
She felt her face heat up, and knew that she could never explain the circumstances in which she went. He could hardly be expected to understand Erik's magnificent magnetism, and his ability to make her forget...in an instant...everything around them. He could hardly know what it was like to be in her position, to want to stay behind and yet go all at once. She felt the impending chill now, and not before... Erik even made her forget the cold. "He isn't a stranger...he is a friend of mine, I have known him for several weeks."  
  
"Oh, several...have you." The man smiled, and she felt her heart jerk as she realized that she was sinking herself into a trap. Or at least...that is how it felt. "Where did you first meet him?"   
  
Christine bit her lip, and didn't answer for a long moment, but her voice was quiet. "I do not think that you have the right to demand answers from me without lawyers present." She saw that on a movie once, and prayed that it was, indeed, true. "And furthermore...I do not think that it was very polite to pull me out of the street and scare me half out of my wits simply because I was seeing a friend! And-"  
  
"Miss Daye..." The man's look had become worried, and a bit wary. "Please, you must listen to me. I have it on the strongest conviction that...that this is a man wanted by many people, and your safety is at risk." Something in his words faltered, a doubt that she saw before and saw again now. This both shocked and confused Christine, for she did not think that policemen ever had any sort of doubt... It didn't make sense to her at all.   
  
But perhaps now she could, at least, find out just what Erik had really done. "Wanted for what?"  
  
The agent took her arms and led her to sit again, as she had stood in the midst of her argument, and she allowed him to. "I am not permitted to talk about it. Please. I don't want anything bad to happen in result of this...not to you or to your boyfriend. I've been following you for nearly a week..."   
  
This was beginning to do more than scare her. Christine started to speak, stopped again, and then just gathered her breath. "Do you know him? Do you know for sure that you are looking for this man?"   
  
His eyes were almost sad, briefly uncertain again, but gentle all the same. "I know. You don't have to tell me anything more right now...Keep my card, and do not let him know that I have spoken to you. Please."   
  
Christine was beginning to realize that there could not be a person in her life that knew of everything. She pushed away the offered card and shook her head. "No...I can't...Please, just leave me alone! He isn't going to hurt me, I'm perfectly safe." While she was unsure of everything else, she was happy to hear that this one statement was not.   
  
The man's voice was quiet, still almost gentle, but it sent shivers down her spine. "You do not know him the way that I do."   
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
But the man seemed to think that he, also, had said a bit too much, and he only looked at her and did not answer her question. "Come on, I'll take you back to the party...we can find Mr. Chagny."   
  
Christine looked at him, irritated that she was not going to get the answers that she also wanted...what did Erik do? Why was someone from the FBI so interested in finding him and yet...had found him and was not really doing anything about it? Where was the conspiracy behind all of this? She prayed to herself that it might be a lack of evidence, that something had to explain why no one was rushing in to arrest him...aside from this man's reluctance to give away Erik's location. She could not explain anything to herself...but somehow, by looking into his eyes and the eyes of Erik as well, she did not believe that the problem in this situation was lack of evidence.   
  
She went with the man, in silence, and even allowed him to hold her elbow. As the party came into sight, she realized that it was the same as she left it. In fact, it was almost as though she hadn't left at all. Even the jester was still making rounds, throwing confetti into people's faces and nearly knocking a few over. It was strange to leave a party for only a little while, have the time pass by like years...and then return and see how little time had actually passed. She saw Ray after a few moments...but the policeman saw him first, and as he pushed her to meet him she felt his hand brush her purse...and knew that he had slipped the card inside.   
  
Christine made her way to Ray, and he smiled as he saw her and took her hand. He hadn't had anything more to drink since she'd been gone, she noticed...and she felt relieved when he asked her if she wanted to go.   
  
"Yes..." She followed him out of the party and towards the subway, leaving behind laughter for the dimming twilight. 


	10. Boxes and Paradoxes

Note from the Author:  
  
FAST update! I felt like it was deserved, because of my last short chapter. Which was actually written the day before I posted it, so it was not to get a message out to anyone. Just FYI! That is a mistake. And this chapter is long. First of all, I would like to thank everyone for what you've said, and for the Emails that I've received. I really can't thank anyone enough. On to more important things! The mask. Okay. I was unclear on it because...Erik has more than one. His face is only half deformed. It's like ALW. Only he DOES wear a full mask in the first scene. This is like a Charles Dance, "hm what mask should I wear today?" type thing. Only the different mask in the first scene was partly because of what happened before he met up with Chrissy, which might or might not be revealed later in the story. And yes, the dogs always know best...Midasgirl-if you would like to do Betareader I would most certainly appreciate it. I am definitely interested. FF.net is letting me replace chapters, and today I was going to fix what Riene has mentioned, but if I could fix everything at once...whatever the Betareader picks up, that might be better. Thank you so much for the suggestion. My poor grammar skills! =) Oh, Susette--I messed with the syntax, because you were right about that and I had hardly noticed. This chapter it's improved a bit, except for places where I found it necessary. Narsil-I do not think that I have the energy to keep Erik as all powerful, or that he would be able to for very much longer. Christine kind of weakens him a bit. You'll see what I mean in the upcoming chapters. I'm glad that you guys like the Nadir! He'll come back, I promise. I'll be happy to answer any further questions! Thanks for reading!  
  
~*~  
  
A day did not pass peacefully or without tension between Christine and Ray. Whether it was over the exact color that she should use for her new painting, where they should have dinner, or whether or not chickens could actually fly, the little fights always ended with Christine sullen and Ray in a worse mood than before. Ray used to let her win the old arguments, with good nature, and back then they had been pointless and silly, but...they were over the same things as they were now. Something in their relationship was changing, and Christine found herself arguing more vehemently after he insisted that they take the 'E' train in the subway one eventful night.  
  
"Christine, this one will get us back to your apartment faster." Ray announced this for the third time, but still as calmly as if it was the first.   
  
With her lips pursed together and her eyes roving the area for the hopeful 'D' train, Christine did not respond.   
  
"Christine-"   
  
She looked at Ray impatiently, and realized for the first time that perhaps she was the one who was being different, rude, and short with him... These were not things that Christine ever was before nor would ever want to be, but...why did he have to argue about everything? "Ray, I have taken the subway several times. I know the fastest way back to my own apartment."   
  
"You're going to be late for your appointment."   
  
"No, I'm not. Besides, it's leaving now."   
  
They made quite a pair! Christine's arms crossed and her eyes distant, and Ray lingering behind her in a helpless, unsure way that made it clear that he had no idea what to do. His forehead was creased, his eyes as distressed as a lost puppy dog, and he looked at least five years more his age. Ray hated not knowing what to do, and Christine was driving him close to his wits' end.   
  
The image that people would see before the man called "Erik" had misshapen them was a gentle, sweet image. They were two lovebirds holding hands and not seeing anything but themselves and each other...young, innocent love. The world is blind to true love...as true love is indeed blind! But there was no love-glow now, or at least none that was seen by anyone who would happen to pass by.   
  
When the 'D' train arrived Christine boarded ahead of Ray. Usually he went behind her and either took her hands from behind or whispered something in her ear to make her laugh, but now he simply followed and took a seat by the window. Christine remained standing, her pale hand curled around the post as she watched the station blur around them.   
  
The subway was nearly empty, save for one person in the last seat. His clothes were torn, brown, and the coat he wore was far too tight. The homeless man scrunched at the far end, as if he was trying to disappear into himself, and his hat hid the whole of his face.   
  
Christine found herself watching him as she pondered different things, for she believed the man to be asleep, and that it would not be impolite to stare if he was unaware that she was doing so. Perhaps things in her life weren't so bad after all...  
  
"Christine. We need to talk."  
  
When she turned, she found Ray looking up at her with a look in his eyes that was sad enough to make her heart give...for a moment. Only after remembering his harsh words to her and about Erik did she feel it harden a little again. But then... wasn't he correct, in a way?  
  
Still. A subway was no place to talk. She looked at him with surprise, glanced around, and found her gaze on the homeless man again. He may be asleep, but she would hardly want anyone overhearing them. "Here?"   
  
Ray shrugged, and a self-depreciative tone crept into his voice. "You hardly talk to me anywhere else, unless we're fighting about something. I'm tired of it, Christine."   
  
Sudden fatigue, whether brought on by Ray's request or by the day crashing down on her, overcame Christine and made her sigh. "Can we talk about it later? Please?"   
  
"Later! Christine...this is you and me...doesn't that even matter to you anymore? I feel like you're hardly here. Even now."   
  
What he said was true. She wasn't. That idea alone was not something that surprised her. It frightened her, to an extent, that Erik seemed to have control of her thoughts even when she was not in his presence. Christine leaned her head against the pole and watched Ray as he spoke to her...but as he spoke, his words began to drone on, and she began to picture Erik's voice in place of his. His perfect, melodious voice...the flawless tenor she sometimes even heard in her dreams...   
  
When he began to sound irritated again, it broke the dream, and she blinked as Ray said: "See what I mean?"   
  
"I'm only tired, Ray. I'm sorry." Christine sighed and left the pole to sit next to him. She moved her hand and took his carefully, as he frowned and kept his eyes stubbornly downcast. "I know how I've been acting, but... You must not keep me from seeing Erik. He is my friend, and that is what has made me resent you so much...surely you know that."   
  
Ray looked up at her eyes, and she saw the doubt but did not feel hurt by it. He had a right to doubt...because she doubted. "Just a friend? Nothing more than that?"   
  
It was just as well that she looked away then, for Ray would have seen the look in her eyes, or perhaps he did not have to. This time she chose to answer honestly. "I do not know."  
  
The pain in his eyes was difficult to bear, and Christine kept in mind that she had only been seeing Ray for a few months. Really, it was her first relationship with anyone...perhaps having love spoken between them had been a mistake. She felt sadness too, but...it was not as though...   
  
"Maybe we should take a break, then." It took a lot of will for Ray to say it, but she could see how much this was getting to him, and for the first time her heart did not skip at the idea of being without him. What could that mean?  
  
She felt sadness, regret, and the continuous thought that it would have been better for them and less complicated if she hadn't ever met Erik, but her emotions felt strangely dull. "Take a break?"   
  
Ray smiled, and it was forced, but his tone was still light. "It's easy...we're getting too tired of each other, that's all. Sooner or later, we'll get back together. I'm betting more sooner than later."   
  
Somehow, Christine had the feeling that he missed the point. "Ray..."   
  
"I mean...I love you. We love each other...and people that love each other never separate permanently. God doesn't allow it."  
  
Christine bit her lip, but she could hardly argue against that. "You're right about that, but..."   
  
"And you need to get your work finished for the Public Art Show next week...it'll be a good time for you to do that. I've been taking up a lot of your time, I know."   
  
"Not so very much..."   
  
"Today we hardly left each other's sight!" Ray spoke with delight now, obviously pleased with himself for finding the "problem" in their relationship. "We'll be missing one another by noon tomorrow. You'll see." At his new idea, Ray was also eager to put it into action. "I'll get off at the next stop. We can't really accomplish more tonight with just spending more time together...obviously...I'm sorry that I've been crowding you. If I'd realized sooner I would have..."   
  
There was no meanness in Christine's heart that could tell him otherwise. "It's all right, Ray."   
  
As the subway stopped Ray stood, and took her to stand with him. Christine looked up at him, awkwardly, but then suddenly gave him a tight hug. Somehow, she had the feeling that she would not be seeing him for a long time... and she clung to him for an extra long moment, frustrated for not understanding her feelings or being able to discern them from what they were. She knew what it was to truly hate a part of herself. She hated her indecisiveness and childish fears, and she hated what she'd gotten Ray into...and Erik, as well. It was unfair, and it was all because she couldn't make up her mind and-- as usual-- had no idea what to think.   
  
"I'll call you." Ray grinned at her in his charismatic way that always made her smile. Then he was gone, and she sat on the row of seats by herself and with her purse on her lap.  
  
It was then that Christine remembered the card. A small fraction of light was shining from the subway station and onto her bag, and she thought, rather humorlessly, that it was almost like a sign. With shaking fingers, Christine unzipped her purse and carefully picked out the card from where it had fallen in between a tube of lip gloss and her keys.   
  
The name was the same that she remembered. Nathan Radford. Of the FBI. She remembered when he spoke those words to her and smiled faintly. It was all so strange...more and more she felt as though she was in the middle of an actual movie. Until now, she had almost successfully forgotten that the man existed. She chose this moment to puzzle over the situation, while turning the card over in her hand. A cell phone number was written on the back of it, in ink.   
  
Because it had only been two days since her encounter with both Erik and Mr. Radford, Christine hadn't spoken to either of them since. The idea crossed her mind to go to the Plaza Hotel, but instead she found herself lingering below by the front steps, either too scared or nervous to enter the dream with only her own will to guide her.   
  
A rough voice suddenly came from the shadows, and Christine nearly spilled the contents of her purse all over the floor. Her shock subsided when she realized that the homeless man was indeed awake, and was now watching her with dilated pupils.   
  
"D'you need a place to stay for the night?"   
  
"No...thank you..."  
  
The man grinned, and the missing teeth made Christine more sad than disgusted. "I saw you fight with your man. I have an extra box, or you're welcome to share mine."   
  
~*~  
  
When the subway finally did come to a stop at her station, Christine was all too relieved to be on her own block. She walked very quickly down the dark street, almost as if she was being pursued...and perhaps she was. As she neared her door a voice from the side caught her attention, so suddenly that all of her breath seemed to momentarily leave her.   
  
"Christine." The name was quiet, deliberate, a beautiful ring of syllables... No one had ever said her name that way before.  
  
She steadied herself quickly as she felt her face burning a hot shade of pink.   
  
The man who spoke came forward, and gently led her to stand closer to the building, away from the street. Christine moved her hand and held his fast as she looked up into the eyes that no longer gave her any fear. They were bright, and as his hand rose to cradle her cheek she met them completely.   
  
"You came...to see me?"  
  
From what she could see of his mouth, Erik actually smiled at her gently, and his cool eyes surveyed hers with the most infinite gentleness that made her shy away from meeting them. "My world is quite bleak otherwise."   
  
For some reason that answer made her blush even more, and she felt shame for what she told Ray only about an hour before. Again, the fact that this was not fair to him was in her mind, and her smile faltered. "Ray and I are fighting."   
  
"You've been fighting." Erik's long fingers curved for a moment the shape of her face, and then lowered as he moved back from her thoughtfully. "Tell me, my Innocent, do you care for him with nearly the same depth and energy as he cares for you?" Christine started to speak, but his eyes alone were enough to stop her. "Don't answer that quite yet. Do you believe that he can possibly care for you as much as he says that he does?"   
  
This startling new conviction shocked Christine into silence, and she took a moment to consider the idea. It did not hurt her as much as it would have weeks ago...days, even...but it did nonetheless, and she looked at Erik helplessly.   
  
The last thing that Christine expected was to ever see the softer aspects of his eyes, without the sharp and calculated look that she always attributed to his stare. He looked at her now with what seemed to be concerned pity, and when she met his gaze it became even more mellowed...almost reverent. "This will come as a relief to you when you begin to understand, Christine. He would be no happier with you than you are with him."   
  
For a moment Christine's eyes were locked completely on his, seeing and yet not understanding all at once. It was horrible to see the truth in all its form and then see what could have been, or still could be, and if it is a lie then she would have to live a lie...if her relationship with Ray was a lie...or if what she felt for Erik could be the lie. After all, she hardly knew him... Christine realized that he knew so much of her and yet she did not know if he even possessed a last name.   
  
Erik's next words made her heart nearly stop in her chest, for it rang the truth that she could not deny. "He will crush you, the little spirit that you have left." Though the words could be deemed as insulting, Christine did not take them that way. They scared her, for she had thought the same thing many times... after giving in to Ray's ideas and desires... She was losing herself with him, and in a very different way than how she lost herself with Erik.   
  
Erik's voice lowered a little, and he kissed her forehead like that of a gentle father or friend, but his words meant far more than innocent simplicity. "Though I fail to understand the possibility of not being happy with the way that you are now, my Christine... You have very much to think about. Especially now that my friend has taken it upon himself to call on you."   
  
This took all of her attention! Christine's eyes snapped up, with surprise, but Erik's gaze was, as ever, composed. "Nathan Radford?"  
  
"Yes. Rather annoying, isn't he? He enjoys tracking me down wherever I go. I would not have a hard time being rid of him, but...it amuses me, you see... and we do go back a long way."   
  
Christine felt a coldness, and she looked at Erik rather suspiciously. "Be rid of him?" The words were harsh, and they unnerved her. She wanted him to be reassuring that the FBI had no true reason of seeking him, not remind her that he was being sought for murder.   
  
With a small, almost wry smile, he was. "Of course I did not mean to be rid of him in that fashion. I have no idea what made you think such a thing about me." His offended pretense almost made her laugh, but then she remembered herself and gave him what could be deemed as a "look."   
  
But she was also curious. "How far back?"   
  
Erik shrugged, lightly, and offered her his arm with the gracefulness that he always maintained. She took it without hesitation, even though she had no idea where they were going. "He was...a colleague."  
  
This only succeeded in confusing Christine all the more. "You went to college?"  
  
For the first time since she met him, Erik looked thoroughly amused. "No, not that sort of colleague."   
  
She blinked, and looked up at him with a small frown. She hated it when she felt like he was telling her stories...he did tell her a lot of stories...or he did, before the party. Before everything. Christine could never discern the truth from the fiction, but the stories had never been about himself anyway. "What other kinds are there?"  
  
There was a moment of silence in which she could gather that he was trying to decide whether or not to answer her question truthfully and fully. Christine had already begun to realize that she hardly possessed Erik's trust, and she also knew that there was no one on Earth who actually did. In fact, she though tit more than likely that she was the only person that he truly conversed with...but she ceased to believe that she was after Nathan showed up.   
  
"We worked together in an industry...rather like your father's. The expectations there turned, and Mr. Radford left. I did not."   
  
This new information left Christine breathless, and rather excited. "You work for a music industry?"  
  
"It was not a music industry. And it was years ago." Erik did not say anything further, whether he merely worked for the industry or actually ran it, or what sort of industry that it was were the questions that continued to race back and forth in Christine's mind. The note of finality in Erik's voice, however, made her refrain from asking them.   
  
"Would you mind if I spoke to him?"   
  
Erik looked at her for a moment, or rather looked inside of her as he had the habit of doing, but he spoke carefully and not without suspicion. "Why?"  
  
"Because..." Christine could not come up with a good enough reason for this. It was, of course, that she wanted more information and had the idea that Nathan Radford knew far more about Erik than Erik was willing to tell her. She was curious...   
  
"I would rather that you did not. I do not want his theories and moral implications to burden you. As I said, you have much to think about. Mr. Radford..." Erik had a strange way of saying the name. Christine could sense a certain quality to it that could almost be mocking. "...tends to confuse people into submission."   
  
"Submission to what?"   
  
Somehow during the course of their talk, they had arrived at the Plaza Hotel. She was not surprised at this arrangement, because she knew now that he stayed there. Though she was rather tired and realized that she must walk all the way back to her own apartment...again.  
  
"You are very inquisitive tonight. And there are many things that Mr. Radford's talent of manipulation can gain." Erik's eyes stayed so steadily on hers that she felt herself begin to see nothing else. It was that familiar sensation. His voice was a gentle lull, and she had no idea now how she could imagine hearing it when the actual sound was far too beautiful to hold in a memory... "You need to stay far away from him. And to be sure that he does not come to you..."   
  
Half aware that she was doing so, Christine nodded. There seemed to be little else that she could truly do...  
  
Erik touched her face once more and she felt herself turning her head so that it was leaning more against his hand. This time she was far more in her senses, as her eyes were shut for the sensation and no longer were locked with his. "You will stay with me for a few days, until he has satisfied himself and has gone elsewhere to ask his questions."   
  
There seemed to be something bigger to consider in this, but if there were any complications in this situation, Christine could not find them at the moment. Except... "The dog. And my cat..."   
  
"I will take care of everything." His words, as smooth as velvet, put away her doubts for good. Erik moved back and took her hand in his own. The coldness of his elegant hands jarred her, but instead of pulling away she only tightened her fingers around his. How could he be so cold? It did not frighten her at all but...it almost made her a bit sad, the same sort of sadness that she felt for the homeless man. In silence, Christine watched Erik's profile as she followed him into the elevator. 


	11. Smoldering Death

Author's Note:  
  
Surprise! This is a chapter that is not in Christine's POV. I decided to change it, because this was necessary to the plotline...and although I don't want to make this story inconsistent with narratives, I believe that in the long run it will add to it. There will be a few more from Nadir's POV, so this isn't just an odd chapter. But yes...we are getting to the good part. Hehe. Anyway.onward!  
  
~*~  
  
Nathan Radford had been a successful non-smoker for five years. Now, and with trembling hands, he lit his third Winston. The embers lit briefly and then went out as he lifted it to his lips. This job was beginning to be a bit too much for him; it grated his nerves, and the dark circles underneath his eyes weren't the only proof. He wasn't old, not even close! A damn thirty years and he felt nearly fifty. With sullen resentment he blamed Erik, the man who drove him to the edge of his sanity and then became the most beautiful man Nathan had ever known. He felt undaunted about saying so, because he had been married once...once, long ago and the definition of beauty wasn't even the kind most people would think of. No, Nathan had seen Erik's face, and was the only one to ever live to tell the tale. Not that he actually dared to tell anyone... he'd kept Erik's face a secret for many years, even when he began to work with the police force. Now, through some stroke of bad luck or perhaps because of his boss's wary suspicion, Nathan was assigned to the new murder case. Not that they suspected Erik. They couldn't. No one knew who Erik was, after all, but Nathan was paranoid that they had seen his expression in that instant when he read the file and recognized every detail of the crime scenes. Everything was the exact way that he remembered.   
  
The past was too complicated. Nathan swore to let it rest and to never think about Erik's deeds or what was done, but this was bringing it all back up again and he didn't know another way out of it. "What's done is done" could not apply in this situation, not if Erik was doing it all over again. While before he could turn his head the other way, Nathan couldn't afford to do it anymore. He had obligations to the state to do what was right, and if there was any proof of what Erik did (which he doubted and could not help but feel relieved for), then he would have no choice but to turn him in. This idea made him regretful because the entire reason that he came to New York was to get away from the guilt of keeping Erik's secrets. And now Erik was here as well...a frightful coincidence that Nathan couldn't deny. He knew that Erik hadn't followed him here; Nathan wasn't a big concern to him. In fact, he believed that Erik would have nearly forgotten his existence at this point...  
  
If only.  
  
The cigarette dropped and was crushed underneath his neatly polished shoe. Nathan took care in such things; there seemed to be little else in his life. His life was his work.   
  
A letter that he left at the front desk of the Plaza Hotel let Erik know of his presence, though he would not be altogether surprised if Erik already knew. He had connections that Nathan would have never guessed or known... some of whom might even be in the department with him. The idea was disconcerting. It was in this letter that he asked Erik to meet him.   
  
He checked his watch again and so missed Erik's approach. When he raised his eyes, he saw Erik's burning gaze focused on him, steadily, the mask not even visible in the darkness.   
  
"Jesus!" Nathan jumped up, but his height didn't make much of a difference. Erik towered over him, and Nathan moved back resolutely. He tried to sound annoyed, but the sudden appearance and the silence unnerved him. "You're late."   
  
"My schedule is not centered around you." Even now, Nathan was not prepared for that voice. Despite the impatient tone, there was still that spectral beauty.   
  
"You think that I have time to wait around?" Nathan argued halfheartedly. The truth was...he did. He had all the time in the world. His only case at the moment was Erik's... By the dark figure's silent stare, Nathan realized that he knew that as well. "What took you so long?"   
  
"That is none of your concern. Is there a reason that we are having this lovely little meeting? I haven't seen you in some years, Agent Radford...you look older." The insult was not truly an insult; at least it did not seem to be that way. Erik had a mocking way of speaking by nature; the cynicism made it seem such, and so Nathan did not even miss a beat.   
  
There was a certain relief at familiarity. "You know why. The murders...I know that they're your doing. I know you...but I don't know why you'd take the risk."   
  
Erik's head tilted slightly, enough so that the moonlight glinted again off his eyes. "Of course. Always your job. You feel as though you must check up on me to make sure that I have no recent blood on my hands. How noble of you." For a moment Nathan believed that Erik would confess, but then something in his mood seemed to change. "Did you ever think that perhaps there is a gray area in your black and white world?"   
  
With a sigh, Nathan sat again on the bench and opened up his notebook. "Don't make my job any more complicated than it is, Erik. I don't feel like discussing philosophy with you right now."   
  
"I was trying to get you to think. You think about little else these days but your job. It makes me wonder if you even enjoy it anymore. This meddlesome nature of yours...invading other people's business... It's no way to stay on my good side." Erik's voice held a hard note to it, and it gave Nathan a chill up his spine. The chill itself was not as frightening as the fact that he got a chill at all. He knew, from experience, that Erik was easy to anger, and right now he was very close to it. "If you understand my meaning."   
  
"If you even try it..."   
  
A very soft laugh came from the figure... the sort of sound that would haunt a man's dreams for a long time afterward. The danger from this still shadow was strong enough for anyone to sense, and Nathan could not help but move his hand slightly to the pistol in his coat. "Oh, I wouldn't be caught. You know that as well as I do. Don't waste your time with idle threats, Agent Radford. Go back your tiny office with the blinds that do not even keep out the sun...Really, you should invest in new blinds at least... And if you decide to tell them all that you know, I will be gone before the hour is over. And in the next hour you will never have to see the sun again. It's your choice, Agent Radford. If I were you, I would choose the blinds. A horse with blinders on never sees anything, and so it doesn't see what's coming...but it is in no danger."  
  
The cold steadiness in Erik's measured tone was enough to make Nathan want another cigarette. Someone speaking of his death so matter-of-factly and with such confidence made him sick. However, he knew that killing him would not be accomplished as easily as Erik said. "Do not forget all that I have done for you, Erik! I have kept quiet all of this time when I could have had you locked up."   
  
"I am well aware of what you've done for me. What I am not aware of is why you've asked me to come in the first place." Erik came slightly closer and seemed pleased when Nathan jerked in response. "You know that I do not tolerate threats...especially from you."  
  
Sweat was beginning to form on Nathan's brow, and he questioned what lapse in his sanity made him want to meet with Erik. "I was going to warn you. Stop this...and stop whatever it is that you're doing with the girl."   
  
Mentioning the girl was a mistake. Erik drew back a little too quickly in a movement that was not unlike him, and he looked as though he was about to strike. A coiled snake... Nathan felt another chill as Erik spoke again. "Yes, I saw you give her your card. How quaint. I'm sure that you confused her more than actually making a point, however."   
  
"Where is she right now?"   
  
"That is also none of your concern. I don't understand why you are so curious about my own business." There was still a trace of amusement in Erik's voice, and Nathan knew that he was safe as long as it remained.   
  
"I'm concerned for the girl, Christine. And her boyfriend as well..."  
  
If only he could even see a portion of the mask. Nathan hadn't seen Erik in a few years, but right now he almost felt like he wasn't truly...seeing him. Something was different. He'd changed for the worse...that was for sure. He had never so lightly put other people's lives in danger. He never killed without a moment's thought; or even threatened it. The constant deaths were all business before, and the idea that it might have turned to pleasure made Nathan feel sick all over again.   
  
"Christine is in no danger." This was said with such finality that Nathan did not doubt it; the idea filled him with new worries all the same. He had seen that the girl was beautiful, and that she would attract someone like Erik, and just because...  
  
This...concerned him. "Erik, what about her boyfriend?"   
  
In the dim streetlight, Nathan's eyes adjusted and he finally separated where the cloak began and the darkness ended. Erik was still looking at him… he knew this because of the glow. "If he doesn't learn to keep to his own, then he'll find himself in a great deal of danger. It is hardly my fault if people are just asking to be killed."   
  
"Erik!" Distressed, Nathan rose to his feet again. He fumbled as he tried to put the notebook away, not that Erik could not retrieve it if he truly wanted. He felt slightly ridiculous for even trying. "You can't say things like that! Just promise me that you won't hurt him."   
  
The figure moved back, further into the darkness, where it was harder for Nathan to even see that he was there. "I will promise you nothing. If you make sure that he stays away from Christine, you may be giving him more of chance...but I doubt it."   
  
Nathan tried to make his voice threatening, and for a moment he succeeded. "If you're serious about this, then I'll..."   
  
Before the sentence was even completed, Nathan felt sudden pressure on his throat. He hadn't even seen Erik move, but in a moment Erik was there and he was so close that Nathan could feel the coldness radiating from him. The Death... When he opened his eyes after recovering from the momentary shock, they met two glowing coals hung in midair. He knew that there were eyes behind them. Nathan started to speak, but Erik's grip tightened, mercilessly. This must be the last thing that Erik's victims saw before they surrendered to their black demise... the floating white lights. If Nathan squinted they dimmed like sparks; perhaps they'd be mistaken for the light you go toward in death. The light of God!  
  
Even in his situation, Nathan found this hysterical.   
  
"You will say nothing. You should know better than to even try... I will never be taken alive." The voice was close now, directly above him, and he even felt the crisp material of Erik's shirt brushing his arm as he struggled briefly against him. "I would hate to have to kill you, Nathan. Your life is worth more than this. Perhaps you should try another profession..."   
  
Nathan gagged a bit, and Erik's grip loosened, but only slightly.   
  
When he spoke again it was quieter, but Nathan already felt himself losing consciousness from the lack of air. "You would do best to forget my existence... at least for a while. Perhaps I will look you up at a later date."   
  
Sweet air rushed into Nathan's lungs. He pulled back and fell against the bench and clutched the wrought iron metalwork with gasping vigor. As he drew in breath, his eyes searched for Erik, but he saw no sign of him. There were tears in his eyes, and he wiped them away with his shirtsleeve as he stumbled to his feet.   
  
There was only a lingering voice... "A shame that you've taken up smoking again, my friend. Such a hazard to your health. It can kill you, you know." And then a laugh that faded away to nothing. 


	12. Don Juan's Flowers

Author's Note:   
  
Heyyy!! Yes, it's been a while. Unfortunately, I'm back into the swing of school...yay. So my chapter updates won't be as frequent as before. I am proud to say that I finally have a definite direction for this story, so that will make me more eager to update. I would also like to urge you guys to read "I Sentieri Scelti: The Chosen Paths," by the lovely writer Eriks Siren(Lisa) and I. Read her other phics also! They're grand! We always end up working together in some odd twist... I want to thank midasgirl for betareading and all her helpful suggestions! This chapter isn't betaread, just let me know if it reeeally needs to be, and then I will send it to you. Thank you everyone for your helpful reviews, criticism, and everything else. There will be more Nadir(Nathan) and more Ray as well. Thanks for reading! This chapter is my longest yet. Isn't that exciting??? Hehe. I'm a loser. Some fluff, but it's necessary so...just grit your teeth if you don't like all that romance stuff.   
  
~*~  
  
It was beginning to be difficult to separate days from one another. Christine woke up every morning to a neatly furnished room accommodated to her every need and desire. The small closet that was usually found in hotel rooms was elongated, and it looked every bit as personable as one she would have in her own apartment. Inside were outfits that she'd never seen before, brand named, and tailored to fit her frame perfectly. Even though they were women's clothing, Erik's taste was impeccable and she didn't expect anything less. The room was light, airy, and with more space than she knew what to do with. In the back of her mind, she realized that she needed to return, and that people must be starting to be worried about her...but these thoughts soon became so troubling that Christine put them out of her mind completely. And whenever she questioned Erik of it, he would play for her...and the thoughts would disappear.  
  
  
  
Time passed quickly as well. Christine could sit on her bed for hours and read one of the many books that Erik provided for her, but usually she would seek him out and persuade him to read to her instead. There was something soothing and mesmerizing about his voice. As she listened, her thoughts would dance and her gaze would relax...most of the time she fell asleep, and she always woke in her bed. It was strange how suddenly it was the next week, but she hardly even thought of how she was missing work...and class.   
  
  
  
Christine soon found that many unexplainable things would occur...some stranger than the time difference, and they happened so often that she stopped questioning them. Erik's explanations always confused her (when he bothered to explain) so much that she would find herself going in circles around the issue. In the end, it was never resolved.   
  
  
  
One of the odd occurrences was the occasional and extraordinary piano music. She knew that she heard it...most of the time at night and when she was about to fall asleep. It was soft at first, and then it built until she was sure that it was definitely not the wind outside. When she ventured to question Erik the morning after, she received only a gentle retort about her overactive imagination. His adoration was difficult to defy, and soon she would fall into silent acceptance.  
  
  
  
One evening, Christine had a book and sat cross-legged on the floor, her back against the chair where Erik was sitting. She had put the book aside long ago, and now her head rested on her knees as she listened to the scratching of his pen.  
  
  
  
"Erik?"  
  
  
  
The scratching paused, but then continued, and his response was somewhat absent. "Yes?"  
  
  
  
His often-preoccupied nature while working made Christine oddly jealous of his music. She always listened and watched him play his violin, and she lingered about in the room as he composed, but she could never quite catch his attention completely. In ridiculous ways she would try... Once she even pretended as though she sprained her finger and then silently looked on with wide, painful eyes as he inspected it with concern. Christine began to thrive on the attention that he did give her, and her breath caught whenever he looked at her...with those eyes that almost looked black in the shadows.   
  
  
  
Today she had something else in mind. "Can we go outside? Maybe we could go for a walk?" Christine had not allowed the idea to enter her mind completely, but she was starting to feel claustrophobic. Even though it was becoming easy to ignore the outside world, she was beginning to miss the sun...the people...the life of the city. Ray and college were the last things that were on her mind, but Christine's personality did not allow her to forget the light.  
  
  
  
It was her triumph as the pen stopped completely. When Erik spoke this time, his voice was harder and carried a strange, disappointed note, but she knew immediately that she had all of his attention. "You are not happy here, Christine?"   
  
  
  
Quickly, she turned and sat up on her knees, her hands gripping the chair... so close to where Erik's arm was, but not quite touching it. "No! I love it here, Erik...I only..."   
  
  
  
In a moment, his music had been set aside, and Erik's own hand was brushing along her cheek so lightly... Christine's voice immediately caught in fear that if she continued her protests, he would stop.   
  
  
  
His gaze drew hers almost like a magnet, and his voice did not hold the least amount of anger. "You do not need to explain anything to me. I understand...We can go anywhere that you wish."   
  
  
  
Christine's face lit up, and she smiled. Her childish expression of happiness made Erik draw his hand back, but why he did, she did not know or even realize. "Really? Can we go to the park?"  
  
  
  
"The possibilities are endless, my darling." Erik paused and looked at her for a moment, very thoughtfully. "Have you ever been to the opera?"   
  
  
  
As Christine shook her head in the negative, Erik was already standing with his music and pacing to the other end of the room. She watched his back from her position on the floor, her nails drawing circles in the material of the armchair. The idea of an opera intrigued her. Not that she wasn't musical...her father was a violinist and taught her when she was younger, but the conservatories were expensive and not something that they could afford. In the end, painting was the art that she pursued, and that was mostly because of the furtive desires of her mother who never spoke her wishes, but Christine had known what they were all the same...And she never wished to disappoint her.   
  
  
  
Still, music fascinated her. "Will we get to go?"   
  
  
  
Erik's voice was distant, although it wasn't his music that he must be on his mind... "Yes. Someday we will, but it will not be here. I do not care for the talent that they've acquired at the Metropolitan. Perhaps in Europe...have you been to Europe before, Christine?"   
  
  
  
The furthest that Christine had gone from her home was New York and all the states in between there and Ohio. She shook her head, somewhat embarrassed. "No..."   
  
  
  
"We will travel there, and I will show you everything there is to see." The tone in his voice was so certain that Christine felt a rush of excitement. She always wished so much to travel... Slowly, she stood but remained by the chair. Erik turned to look at her movement, but he also remained still...though his gaze found hers again. "Everything that you wish will be yours. I would do anything to please you, Christine...you must know that..." The intensity in his eyes unnerved her a bit, and her own flitted away quickly.   
  
  
  
"Thank you, Erik..." Although they never acknowledged their previous romantic encounters, Christine found herself thinking of them constantly and flushing a bright pink whenever she was in his presence. And she had the suspicion and embarrassed assumption that he always knew why...   
  
  
  
In the faint moonlight, she saw the white of his mask gleam, and she remembered how black it looked that night so long ago. They surveyed each other across the room for a few more minutes until he raised his hand and held it out in a sign for her to come to him. Christine did, slowly, and as her small hand slipped into his, she felt his fingers curl around it, and his eyes never left hers. They were close, and her eyes would not completely meet his, but Erik did not seem to notice...or if he did, he did not seem to care. His other hand again touched her, but not her face this time...She felt him stroke her hair and twist the silky strands until her head tilted back slightly. There was a pause, and then Erik moved back from her, and Christine's heart nearly stopped in her chest. She felt disappointment...a vague sense of it...or perhaps it was shock, or relief...She found with a sort of uneasiness that she did not know.  
  
  
  
She heard him speak as if from far away. "I will play for you."   
  
  
  
Christine stepped back and found the chair. She sank into it and said nothing as Erik began to play.   
  
  
  
Most evenings ended like this.   
  
~*~  
  
When Erik took Christine back to her apartment she found a piece of mail that was sealed with Columbia's Art Department stamp. She tore into the envelope with a measure of dread, already expecting it to be a reprimand about her attendance. While Erik assured her that he had taken care of everything, Christine could not help but feel wary about the situation. As her eyes skimmed over the formal introduction, she felt Erik's hands on her shoulders, and her heart did the familiar act of skipping a beat.   
  
At first it was impossible to make sense of what the letter said. It took Christine a moment to realize that the letter was not sent because she was in trouble, and it took her a little longer to understand that it was something good.  
  
Christine's hand flew to her mouth, so fast that the letter nearly fell to the ground, but at the last minute she clutched it tighter in her hand. "Oh! Oh, Erik! My painting was accepted into one of the art galleries!" It was a rare thing for a freshman to have a painting in any sort of art gallery, and even rarer for it to be their first painting. At the moment Christine could not recall actually entering it...but perhaps Ray did end up convincing her and she didn't remember. She felt the wild urge to hug Erik, and she did, expecting to catch him off guard...but he remained calm as always and returned it, holding her tightly.   
  
His voice was soft, next to her ear. "They would have to be blind not to see your talent. I am only surprised that they did not send you the letter sooner." Erik's praise somehow meant more than the letter did. She knew that he'd seen her paintings at the studio the night the power went out.  
  
Excitement passed through Christine again and she held him tighter for just a moment before pulling back. "They're showing the painting next month." Christine met his eyes after a moment's shyness. "Would you come with me?"   
  
As Erik's hand stroked her cheek Christine leaned forward, and his smile made her hopes rise. "I would never think of missing it...or their faces when they acknowledge your talent. You've earned this, Christine, it is your own triumph."  
  
The thought never crossed her mind that she, for once, was doing something and was receiving her own award for it. It made her feel incredibly independent. She thought of this for a moment, until she realized that she was still holding onto Erik...then she pulled back, uncomfortable. He watched her as she did, his hands lingering for a moment on her arms before he withdrew as well.   
  
A month never seemed so far away. Christine tucked the letter safely back into the envelope, folded it in two, and placed it inside her purse. Then Erik took her arm and led her back to the waiting car outside.   
  
Later, Christine exited her room during an obscure time of the night...she'd left her book overturned on the couch and wanted to read for a little while, or until her insomnia passed. She hadn't quite gotten to the end of the hall when she heard Erik's voice.   
  
It was strange to hear him speak on the phone, mostly because it lacked something that she heard when he spoke to her. The tone was more even, remote, and less...personable. Everyone spoke differently on the phone to people that they didn't know, but the way he sounded...it could almost be deemed as threatening.  
  
Against her conscience, Christine paused at the end of the hallway and listened, her hands pressed against the cold wall.   
  
"I am calling to inform you that I won't be able to do this project any longer." A pause, and then Erik's voice became considerably colder. "That is my concern. It will have to be arranged for some other time... No, of course not, but I know how your manager is desperate enough to wait. I'm not speaking in terms of years, but I will need another month at least..."  
  
This confused Christine. She didn't know that Erik even had contact with the outside world, and the fact that she was overhearing him speak on the phone was strange to say the least! She crept forward further, until she saw him by the piano. His hand was over the manuscript that she often saw him working on, brushing the corners of the pages...his fingers moving in elegant lack of concern.  
  
His voice cut sharp into her thoughts, and Christine started guiltily. "No. It is complete, as of yesterday... But Don Juan has become second in my priorities as of now. He will have the composition...in a month. I will be contacting you."   
  
When she heard the click of the phone Christine came into view, and spoke Erik's name so softly that, for a moment, she believed that she saw surprise when he turned.   
  
It was quickly replaced with the gentle adulation that she'd come to hope for and love. "It is far too late for you to be awake, my angel." The pet names Christine would have found ridiculous in Ray she lived for in Erik. The words were like honey, sweet and comforting, and she loved it most when he labeled her an angel... It was what her father would call her.   
  
"I couldn't sleep..."  
  
"Is there something troubling you?" Erik came forward, and she watched him as he held out a glass for her to take. She didn't see where it came from, or how it was already prepared for her...but she didn't question Erik's world or the unexplained, she never did. In a way it was because the child inside of her did not want the enchantment to be broken or the dreams destroyed.   
  
Christine accepted the glass and took a cautious sip. It tasted sweet, but not sickly sweet... It was the perfect mixture of herbs and sugar. She finished it in a few more drinks and handed the crystalline glass back to Erik. "Nothing is troubling me. Erik...what did you have to cancel?"   
  
"It was nothing of any importance." The answer was immediate, and the drink disappeared directly after his fingertips touched it.   
  
Erik's music always seemed to be his first priority, which was one of the reasons why the conversation seemed odd to Christine... "But...it had to do with your composition, didn't it?"   
  
"It did, but it isn't a lost opportunity...merely rescheduled."   
  
Baffled, Christine frowned and came forward slightly, watching him. "But why?"   
  
His eyes turned to hers and she stopped. The genuine lovingness in his gaze was not shocking, but unexpected, and Christine's hand rose to her neck...where she twisted her necklace, nervously.   
  
Gently, he took her hand from the tangled chain and lifted it to his lips. "You are more important to me than my music. I would not miss your gallery showing. I promised you, did I not?"   
  
It suddenly became clear to Christine that he'd said that he could reschedule in a month, and she realized that she was the reason for that... By the bit of conversation that she did overhear, she knew that some sort of company must be interested in his music; enough to publish or perhaps even perform it. It was as important as her art would have been to her, it was the equivalent of her success...and he'd canceled. For her.  
  
Christine breathed in sharply and her hand tightened on his. That Ray would never do such a thing was her first thought. But...it astounded her, the idea that someone cared for enough to put everything aside because of her request... "Oh..." She wanted to protest, but she knew without even beginning that it would be futile, which was obvious enough in Erik's gaze.   
  
Things were beginning to become a little clearer. Erik cared for her, more than anyone she'd ever known...next to her parents, of course. The look in his eyes made her heart twist in an ecstasy that she didn't understand, but it was definitely not pity or sadness, which would be present if Christine did not care for him at all. Christine never could name a weakness in Erik...and even now, when she realized that he would do anything that she asked, she still couldn't name one... Because this wasn't a weakness to her, nor was it pathetic...it was astonishing, and for a moment Christine believed that she might even love him. Love...love, which was so far from her mind as of late. Or perhaps it hadn't been far but right there the entire time...in Erik. But... love was such a strong emotion, and when her thoughts began to seep to past events, or when her gaze lingered on the mask and that questioning crept to her mind...   
  
No. No, she wouldn't think of it. It was too much to think about. He made a sacrifice for her that she never imagined anyone doing...he put his music aside...  
  
All for her.   
  
Christine stepped closer and felt Erik shift as his fingers touch her hair again. It was much like a few nights ago...but then he'd moved back to play for her. This time Christine held his gaze to hers; her head tilted back as before...and this time she did not wait for him to kiss her.   
  
All rational thoughts escaped her in that moment. Christine rose on her tiptoes, his height was far too much to manage this feat otherwise, and she kissed him. She felt him respond as if through a dream, his hands moving to her arms as he held her against him, always so close... Before now Christine hadn't the courage nor the will to kiss him herself, even the idea terrified her...but now, it only seemed to be the right thing to do. While she was still unsure about her feelings for Erik, she knew that she did want his love, his attention...and to kiss him. She held his shoulders as well, her hands slipping behind his neck. She thought with a sort of giddiness that his hair was feather-soft, like angel wings...  
  
He was an angel at her fingertips...and he loved her. Only a fool would not return the sentiment... but how could she forget...?   
  
As Erik pulled back and kissed her forehead softly before kissing her again, Christine mercifully forgot. 


	13. Precious and Sweet Morphine

Author's Note:  
  
I've been sick! URI infection, so if you don't understand much in this chapter...that is why. I am actually very happy because I know where this story is going now. Yes! I didn't know before! Well, not for sure. Now I have a direction...some of you might not like what I have in store in the upcoming chapters, but it's for the best, trust me. I would like to announce that I have now become The Grasshopper, so if you're wondering who in the world that is, it's me. My dear friend Lisa, you guys may know her as Erik's Siren...she has become The Scorpion. Yes, we are combining. We did notice your comments on our writing style being similar: the dark aspects of phantom, that is. This is mostly because we've been friends for years and influenced each other! So, we've decided to start something new and work together on a few stories. If you want to find stories that are by us both, they will be located at le Scorpion et le Grasshopper, or something roughly like that. We haven't put any up as of yet, but keep an eye out if you're interested! /end shameless promotion. Oh-and what's up with the scary reviewers? If people want to write Mary Sue phics, then by all means let them! And if people want to write fantasy phics, let them! Though...it's a good idea to at least...try to dissuade the Mary Sue ones... Okay! Onward.   
  
~*~  
  
Approximately a week after Christine's disappearance, Nathan contacted Ray.   
  
His efforts to find Erik or Christine proved frustrating and futile. No one at the front desk knew anyone of that name who was registered at the hotel and didn't recognize any of the other ones that Nathan listed off on his fingers...despite the fact that he was able to leave a note for Erik mere days ago. To make matters worse...when he tried describing the mask...all Nathan received was a blank stare from the same clerk who had delivered his note to Erik before and sudden suspicion from the security guards. The fact that he was about to strangle this poor brainwashed clerk must not have helped matters. Erik's maddening ability to make people believe what they wanted to believe or remember what they wanted to remember was constantly getting in his way. Sometimes he wished that he hadn't possessed a stronger mind against him, or Erik would have made Nathan forget his existence long ago, and that would have been a kindness. But no, of course Nathan proved incapable of falling under the influence of Erik's hypnotic voice and spell. He supposed that if he truly wanted to, he could...but now it was becoming a matter of pride.   
  
It was only a shame that the young, snobby clerks that worked in the establishment obviously hadn't put up much of a fight.   
  
Nathan was desperate enough to comb through every inch of the Plaza Hotel to seek Erik out himself. But he couldn't get a search warrant without notifying his superiors. They would ask why...and he would have to turn in Erik. It was irritating--The constant loop! There truly was no way out of it; he was beginning to realize this, but he remained in denial...surely Erik could be overcome. He was only a man. While there would be more than a few to argue, Nathan knew that this was true. There must be a way to do it without having to break his promise.  
  
But if there wasn't... Well! Why didn't he just do it, then? To hell with his conscience and to hell with past allegiance! Erik brought this on himself, after all. He needed to learn that he couldn't kidnap people without repercussions. Nathan saw himself marching directly to his boss's office, tossing down papers with Erik's name on them, and telling all, starting with the Chicago murders. His boss would sip his coffee, praise him on his brilliance, and perhaps even promote his status in the Bureau.   
  
Erik always laughed at these fantasies of his.  
  
"Ah, Nathan, you've always had a taste for power...That is the one thing that we have in common...Along with the rest of mankind, really..."  
  
Back then, Erik's dissection made Nathan feel as though he was put in a little box, and he'd always respond indignantly. "I'm fine where I am now."   
  
That had been long ago, and during one of Erik's dark, self-loathing moods. "Fortunate for you, my friend, there are some dreams that do come true. For some." He saw Erik in his mind's eye, stretched out on the divan like a cat as one of his hands idly rolled the morphine needle. The eyes behind the mask were far-gone and so was the mind...or perhaps it always had been.   
  
Instead of this memory invoking guilt, Nathan was suddenly a bit hopeful. It must be a good sign, then...that he saw himself promoted after turning in Erik...  
  
Unfortunately, the next thing that he pictured was his garroted body discovered in an alleyway.   
  
If only Nathan had the courage. If only he thought lightly of betrayal...but what exactly did Erik owe him? Nothing, really...If anything, he was putting Nathan in danger. If his boss ever found out that there was information being withheld from them and that innocent lives were at stake because of it...it wasn't just a reprimand that Nathan would be facing. Something like that would ruin his career and his life... But, at the same time, Nathan also knew that as long as he remained quiet, he would remain undiscovered. Though that didn't save his ethics.   
  
By now his ethics were far beyond repair.   
  
As Nathan stood inside the phone booth next to Christine's work and called information, he began to wonder if any of them were prepared for what was about to be set into motion. He knew more than anyone what Erik was capable of, which was why he had debated for a long time about calling Ray. At first, he believed that it would cause unnecessary panic...Nathan knew that Erik would not hurt the girl. What he didn't know was when she would actually be returned. But how would he trust the kid not to go to the police? "I need the listing for Ray Chagny...No, I believe that he resides on campus. Yes, I'll hold."  
  
Then he remembered his wife, and his compassion once again overcame his common sense.   
  
Ray Chagny. Nathan didn't much care for him. He hadn't spoken at all to the kid, but something about Ray just frayed his nerves. The girl, Christine, always seemed far too nervous... Of course, the situation in which Nathan found her didn't put her in a good state, so he supposed that it wouldn't be fair to judge.  
  
"Hello?" The voice that crackled lightly on the other end sounded pathetically hopeful.   
  
There was a pause before Nathan spoke. "Am I speaking to Ray Chagny?"   
  
The man sighed and the anticipation was gone. "Yes...Who is this?"   
  
"My name is Nathan Radford. I'm calling on behalf of Christine Daye."  
  
"Christine?? Do you know where she is? Is she okay? Can I talk to her? She isn't hurt, is she? Have you--"   
  
Quickly, Nathan interrupted the spiel of questions...His patience was already short. "We can't talk about it on the phone. Meet me at the restaurant she worked--"  
  
"Worked?? Sir, are you implying--"  
  
"No, no...works...excuse me." Good God. Is this what made Christine so nervous? "Meet me in a half hour." Though the kid's genuine concern for his girlfriend made Nathan feel bad for him... he remembered what it was like to be that young. Except not many masked men stole his girlfriends.   
  
"Fine. I'll be there in five minutes."  
  
The phone clicked as Nathan replaced it and stepped out into the light, misty rain. The restaurant bell jingled as he went inside, and he took a seat near the window so that he could watch outside for Ray.   
  
It didn't take the kid long. The server had only set down his first steaming cup of coffee when Ray came in. His clothes looked thrown on, and for a moment Nathan hardly recognized him as the same person he'd seen on the street before...at the party. Nathan definitely wasn't the only person who looked older. He raised his cup, slightly, as an inclination of who he was.  
  
Ray slid into the booth across from him and raked a hand through his mussed hair. "Are you Nathan Radford?"   
  
"Yes."   
  
The waiter asked Ray what he wanted, and he ordered coffee. With a lot of sugar.  
  
There was an amused smirk on Nathan's face. "You'll need a lot of coffee to get through this."   
  
Patience was definitely not one of Ray's virtues, and he frowned. "Tell me where she is, if you know."   
  
There was a sigh in Nathan's reply, but it was of true regret...He saw the hours of lost sleep on Ray's face...mostly because he was so used to seeing them on himself. "I don't know where she is. I know who she's with."   
  
"Erik, isn't it?"   
  
Nathan blinked with surprise. It hadn't occurred to him that Christine told Ray about Erik, and he took a sip of coffee to recover. This was going to be harder than he thought. After a long pause he finally answered reluctantly, "Yes..."   
  
The frown deepened. "You don't sound so sure, Mr. Radford."   
  
Another sip, though the coffee was scalding hot. "I'm sure, kid. But she isn't in any danger; you don't have to worry about that. Though I doubt that she is there because she has chosen to be."   
  
Ray's eyebrows shot up, and he leaned forward, stunned. "We have to tell the police!"  
  
"I am the police."   
  
It took a moment for that information to process. Nathan saved the time by showing Ray his badge, and then he just seemed baffled for a moment...after all, Ray had talked to the police earlier that day.   
  
Suspicion was present as Ray retorted, "The other ones don't know, though, do they? Tell them! Maybe they could put forward more of an effort--" His voice was rising dangerously.   
  
The glare that Nathan was capable of wasn't much, but it was enough to silence him. "Be quiet! You don't know who can overhear you. I wouldn't be surprised if he's here right now."   
  
With alarm, Ray's eyes darted to all corners of the restaurant. Obviously he had not considered this possibility. "My God, do you really think so?"   
  
Didn't he know that he had to expect the unexpected with Erik?   
  
No, of course he didn't.  
  
"You won't survive long if you aren't careful, kid. This isn't just some guy who's taken your girlfriend. If you tell the police about it, I can guarantee that you will never see Christine again. Are you following me?"  
  
Ray started to stammer in an effort to sound unconvinced, "How do you know that? Who is this man? You obviously must know him to know all of this..."   
  
"I knew him."   
  
There was a silence in which Ray tried to find a way around that statement. "Knew...past tense...Who is he?"   
  
Nathan laughed at the question entirely because it was not an easy one to answer. "Erik. That is his true name, as far as I know. Who he is...Well, he is a great number of things. Where do you want me to start?"  
  
"From the beginning."  
  
Nathan sighed and closed his hands around the coffee mug. He was afraid that it would come to this. "Keep in mind that he is no danger to Christine...but he is a great deal of danger to us." Ray looked at him questioningly, but Nathan continued:  
  
~*~  
  
I first met Erik while I was in training and working on my first case. It was his case, though I didn't know it then... I ran into him outside of the station and became his friend...in a way. He's a musician, a very talented one, and he sought me out while I was at a theater. I don't do music myself; I couldn't carry a tune to save my life...but I enjoyed the performances nonetheless.   
  
We started attending shows together until my case kept me working longer hours and up late most nights. I trusted him...I told him about my wife, about my life and my past...He learned very much about me... That was his goal all along.   
  
I don't think that either of us really expected me to realize that he was connected to the case. Oddly enough, I'd even mentioned it to him once or twice...but never in detail. That was against policy. The thing is, I wouldn't have discovered him at all...if I'd been where I told Erik I'd be, and if he hadn't, for one moment, actually trusted that I wouldn't change my mind.   
  
You see, I decided to go to the theater instead of staying home and working. Usually I met Erik at the theater, and this time I expected to find him there...and for him to be surprised that I wasn't, as usual, absorbed into my work. Erik previously told me that he attended every night that there was a new show opening. Every night in the same box.   
  
He wasn't there that night...and it was the night when Louis Edwards was killed. This did make me suspect a little, but only a little! But you have to understand, Erik was my friend at this point, or somewhat, and I was sure that he must have another excuse for not being at the performance. But Erik was consistent about what he did...He followed through to his word, and his habits weren't something that were broken lightly.   
  
You'll discover that I'm a suspicious man by nature, however. We had some DNA evidence discovered at the site where the man was killed, and it didn't belong to the man...  
  
The next day, when Erik left the room long enough...I took the needle he uses for morphine. He has several, but that one was fresh from only an hour before. Yes, he's an addict...and has been for years, even before I knew him. I hate to say that this is something that I never turned him in for. I pitied him, you see, I couldn't refuse him those hours of peace... In the end, it worked to my advantage. I took the DNA into the lab and paid a technician to examine it for me. It was a whim; really, I didn't think that anything would turn up. Of course I was wrong.   
  
The DNA was a perfect match. My next stop would have been to contact my boss, but Erik had followed me to the lab. I can't even begin to explain what happened next. He knew that I knew, and I knew that he knew that I knew... It's complicated. He treated me the same as he always did... The murderous fiend even seemed remorseful! My guilt and uncertainty rose. He's such a genius...you have to realize... His architectural designs win awards...His compositions could grant him worldwide recognition if he bothered to sign his name. I thought that Erik could change the world if he wished to...he could still...and what good would he do anyone behind bars?  
  
I was a fool.   
  
So we exchanged promises, in the end. He didn't threaten my life because he knew that it wasn't the way to win with me...at least not in the current situation. I'm used to life threats... No, Erik is more artful than that. He used my sympathy. He promised me that he would never hurt another human being, and I promised him that I would never breathe a word of what I knew. We parted ways like that...I believed that everything was fine...Until now.   
  
I think that he has fallen in love with Christine Daye, and that he won't let her go for anything... Be prepared kid, for whatever's coming next.  
  
~*~  
  
The coffee was ice cold...as if a ghost had touched it. 


	14. Fantasy Verses Reality

Author's Note:   
  
Well hellooo!! Tis Ami!!! Thank you for reviewing, I feel sooo much better now. I really appreciated Eowyn's review--it really really made my day...after I had a bad day. Thank you SO SO much! I wish I could answer you guys' questions without ruining the plot...heheeee...trust me. Things are building up to something.  
  
Reviews motivate me!!! (hinthint? Maybe!! Pretty please? Teehee) Ami loves you guys!! Oh, and if you get the time, please check out the story "Twisted In Every Way" by me and Liiisa!! I write Christine's POV and she writes Erik's. It's sublime, if I may say so myself...hehe =). Thanks!  
  
~*~  
  
In a little over a week after Ray and Nathan's meeting, Christine had the urge to go back to her apartment. It wasn't because she wasn't happy with Erik...No, nothing like that! It was actually because she missed her cat...and even Lobo... While Erik assured her that they were taken care of, it still wasn't enough to ease her desire to see them. She also wanted to be in her apartment again...only for a moment to make sure that it existed in the first place. Her memories of it were becoming dull... In fact, every memory that she had before now was clouded nearly to the point of oblivion. She only vaguely remembered Ray as her boyfriend with whom she constantly fought... Of course she supposed that they must have been happy at one point...but it hardly mattered now, anyway. Yes, that was what her mind told her... She remembered school, but Erik kept bringing her signed letters that guaranteed her active status as a student despite the fact that she wasn't even attending her classes... But she knew that he would not lie to her...and so she accepted his peculiar explanations with a small smile.   
  
As of late, Erik was constantly busy. And when she tried to question what he was doing, he would answer her indirectly...or inquire what it is that she, Christine, was doing...as if they were playing some sort of circular game. Usually she lost patience with him in a teasing, gentle way, but sometimes she would continue to ask until he gave her an answer.   
  
"I'm making arrangements."   
  
"For whom?"  
  
"For myself."  
  
"Yourself?"  
  
"You as well, my darling."   
  
This did not help her confusion.   
  
It did, however, make her hesitate to ask him if he would go back to the apartment with her. She'd only returned a small number of times to gather mail and to pay rent...It seemed pointless in a way, but Erik insisted on paying it for her if she continued to stay with him... Since Christine didn't want to contact her parents and ask for more money, she agreed...but reluctantly. The few times that she did return to the apartment, Erik had always gone with her... But she didn't want to ask him to waste his time to walk her there, wait while she saw her animals, and then walk her back again.   
  
Christine was sure to catch him when he was preoccupied. She'd come to know and predict his moods, and therefore was able to use them to her advantage.   
  
This time, she approached him while he was editing his finished opera. It was complete even with orchestrations, and she'd never seen a manuscript more impressive. She asked him to play it for her a few times, and he always would...though she'd noticed that there were certain sections that he would not even allow her to see.   
  
"Erik?"   
  
"Yes?" Erik, being the perfectionist that he was, was always editing the opera in one way or another, and most of the time, it left him entirely unaware of what surrounded him. Christine knew this because she'd dropped a plate one evening that shattered into a million pieces on the kitchen floor, and Erik was oblivious that it had happened until she had come running to him in tears of apology.   
  
"I was wondering if I could go to my apartment for a little while..."   
  
He did not look up at her request, but instead continued on...His reply was only half directed to her, it seemed, "Of course. I will be finished soon."  
  
It was doubtful that Erik's 'soon' could be assumed to be within the next three hours. Christine knew this well. "You don't have to. I know the way, and it's not far...I'll be back before you're even finished..."   
  
This did not seem to catch Erik's attention, and he continued writing without another word. To him, the issue was resolved and Christine might as well not be standing behind him any longer. He was not ignoring her or being cold, but only music was in his mind... Christine's voice had been enough to bring him from it... but only for the briefest moment.   
  
She knew that he did not hear her, at least not completely...  
  
Christine did not allow herself to feel guilty for manipulating his consent. She gathered her coat from the hall closet, slipped it on, and watched Erik as she went out the door... It closed inaudibly behind her.   
  
The hallway was abandoned and for that Christine was immensely relieved. In a sense, she felt as though she were betraying him, but...he wouldn't even realize that she had gone... In fact, it was fair to say that he wouldn't even recall her asking him about returning in the first place. Erik never remembered a word that they exchanged while he was absorbed in his work.   
  
Distantly, Christine recalled that there was another way out of the hotel. She couldn't remember where it was now, so instead she simply left the conventional way.   
  
The sunlight was bright enough to make her wince at first as she was unused to such light. It never occurred to her how dim Erik kept the room. She felt so comfortable there! All of her problems simply went away for a while, and listening to his voice detained them even longer. She still felt his influence now, in the sunlight, and it made her remember and question their convorsation...something that now seemed as though it didn't even belong in the same world.   
  
The night that she kissed him had been a pivotal turn for them. Christine had brought them to a different level than before, although she hardly realized it. Things didn't change outwardly, but their conversations became more serious...physical interaction was less awkward and became almost natural...ever since...   
  
She remembered the feel of his embrace then...when they stood in the dark after she'd crossed her own boundaries and given him a kiss. His words were spoken into her hair, as soft as mythical whispers...but they resounded in her head as he spoke only to her.   
  
"I love you."   
  
At first, Christine did not know how to respond. To say the exact same thing back to him made her nervous and unsure...and so she was silent for a long, thoughtful moment... Few people had ever said such a thing to her, Ray being one of them. But that was different...She had returned the sentiment then without even thinking. But she couldn't do that to Erik. No, not with all of the muddled feelings and thoughts that she had!   
  
Finally, she spoke, "I...I believe that...that I may love you as well..."   
  
Her obvious uncertainty had not seemed to make Erik falter, and as he placed a chaste kiss on her temple, she shut her eyes tightly.   
  
"If I asked you to come with me to Europe..."   
  
As the idea registered, Christine's eyes had opened again with delight. "Oh, yes! I would go with you!"   
  
The seriousness that she then saw in his expression made her a bit uneasy, and as his gaze studied hers, she fell silent. It was always as though Erik understood her more than she did herself. If she ever had a question about what she would like, he would be the one to ask!  
  
Erik had been grave but gentle at the same time...and with him so close to her, the contrasting emotions were even more conflicting. "Promise me."   
  
How could she have said anything else? Nothing else existed in that moment besides Erik. It became too easy for Christine to pretend that she wouldn't be leaving behind her entire world for this man because there may not even be a world outside of this room... "I promise."   
  
To remember that conversation now made Christine feel mystified. There had since been no more mention of Europe, but she knew that Erik did not sway from his decisions...and she could only hope that it was not something that would be occurring soon...or even at all, if she changed her mind. Could she change her mind? She'd promised...   
  
It wasn't something to think of now. She would go to her apartment, see her animals, and then leave...before everything began to catch up with her at once and things became too overwhelming and complicated. Perhaps it had been a mistake to try and go without him. Erik's hand on her arm would feel so safe and secure right now, and it would keep her thoughts from wandering to troubling things...She would only have to look at him, and his adoring gaze would bring her a peace that she'd never known before that moment.   
  
How strange it was to be aware of and resent reality...but at the same time block it out so completely.   
  
...I love you...   
  
Did he love her?   
  
More importantly, did she love him?   
  
Again, she found these ideas and concepts far too much to grasp in the current situation. There were more important things, and she knew that, given time, she would figure out eventually for herself what she felt for Erik. She believed that she knew everything about him as well, and whatever she didn't know was nothing of importance. She accepted that his childhood was an unapproachable topic, and she did not ask questions anyway... Subconsciously, she did not want to know the answers.   
  
When Christine arrived at her apartment building, she did not recognize the car out front. This in itself was strange, but as she walked past, she heard a voice from inside that was vaguely familiar...   
  
"Christine!!"   
  
She blinked, turned, and then blinked again. "Ray?"   
  
The car door opened, and Ray was out so fast that he nearly went flying over the curb. He had been in the driver's side, but another man was in the passenger's seat... She did not recognize the other man at all. The name Nathan Radford would also not sound familiar to her. Perhaps her mind had chosen to block out their previous encounter completely.   
  
And Ray...That was Ray...wasn't it? She knew him, but it seemed as though it'd been years...His face looked so strange to her, and when he touched her arms, she was almost shocked at not feeling any sort of chill.   
  
Erik's hands were so cold...  
  
Christine felt herself smile, but it was a strange, carefree smile that unnerved both of the men. "It's been a while..."   
  
Before Ray could say anything, the other man, who had gotten out of the car in the course of their astonishment, gently took her arm and pulled her towards the double doors.   
  
"This is no place to talk, Miss Daye. Come with me." 


	15. A Ghostly Galleon

Author's Note:   
  
Thanks for all the reviews!!! You guys seriously make my night..I love getting those little review alerts in my mailbox...Trind, I know what you mean by the English lectureish use of words...unfortunately I tend to get that from reading Fitzgerald from time to time....I'm trying only to use it when it's appropriate, and to save time and not make my chapters so long, hehe! =) As for versus versus verses...it's a play on words, sort of...like verses...poetry...kind of hard to tell, but thanks for pointing it out...I doubt that anyone would have noticed otherwise.   
  
I dub myself the one of cheesy cliffhangers =)!! I will try to do better on that in the future...Onward! I hope you enjoy! This is my longest chapter yet...Can someone tell me what exactly "fluff" is? I thought I knew but then I got confused when I asked someone about it...is it just pointless conversation or...what? I mean...someone...clarify that for me...if you can =).   
  
Much love.  
  
Ami  
  
~*~  
  
The look in Christine Daye's eyes gave Nathan the realization that they didn't have much time. Her gaze was dangerously glossed over...and as Nathan led her inside the apartment building, she looked at him as if she'd never even seen him before. The lack of recognition in her eyes that was directed towards Mr. Chagny as well was also unnerving...And when Nathan looked at the boy, he realized that it hadn't escaped his attention either... Ray was watching his girlfriend with a mixture of terror and hatred...but the hatred was for Erik. For this, Nathan could hardly blame him, for...after all, they'd been unable to find Christine for days, and Ray's arguments to tell the police had grown stronger... Nathan's firm belief that Christine would disappear altogether did not make an impact on Ray...because he had believed that his girlfriend was already long gone, and he did not see what the harm of a police search would be.   
  
Patience was their key. And in the end, Nathan was relieved to be right. Christine Daye came to them eventually...   
  
"Who are you? What do you want?" Christine's eyes were wide and she pulled hard on her arm to try and escape Nathan's grip. He didn't let her go, but with the ferocity that she continued to put forth, he suddenly became afraid that he might hurt her. The fear in her eyes was obvious, and Nathan found that very...ironic.   
  
The words were out of Ray Chagny's mouth before Nathan could even begin to speak. "You're safe now, Christine; you won't ever have to see him again!"   
  
Nathan gave him a look, and Ray stopped talking, looking wounded and confused. "Why," his eyes seemed to ask, "Why would we not tell her everything?"   
  
A sigh of impatience could not be oppressed... To Nathan, it should be obvious why! The girl was close enough to panicking now; Nathan didn't want to question her if Ray's overwhelming emotions sent her to the brink of hysteria. He knew how easily witnesses and victims were lost to their fear, and he didn't want Christine Daye to stop talking when what they needed most was her side of the story... They needed it so that Nathan could know what to do next. This could be the last time that they had a chance to talk to Christine Daye...If she was allowed to return to Erik, it would be a miracle to find her alone again!  
  
If she was even alone right now...  
  
Still, panicking would make the situation worse.  
  
Because of this, Nathan's voice remained calm and collected. "Miss Daye... I wanted to ask you a few questions about Erik."   
  
The name itself sent a spark through her eyes, and Christine stopped fighting. The fear did not go away, however, and Nathan made her go up the stairs before he allowed her to answer him. It would do no good to ask her questions where it was possible to be overheard.   
  
Not that he had the hope of thinking that Erik could not overhear them upstairs as well... Nathan's only optimism was clinging to the fact that he didn't think that Erik would hurt either of them in front of Christine...But he had no way of knowing what would happen to them after she left...  
  
"What do you know of Erik?" Christine asked as they reached the top banister. Nathan shook his head and instead indicated for her to open the door...so that they could continue the discussion inside.  
  
The shaking in her hands became prominent as she used her key to open the door. Ray trailed behind Nathan helplessly, but with a manner that made it obvious that he wished to do something. The door opened and Christine went inside first. The white, fluffy cat was sitting on the couch, and she picked it up and held it in her arms tightly. The cat stretched out and looked at Nathan over Christine's shoulder with hostile yellow-green eyes.   
  
A large dog lingered in the doorway and growled low in its mouth at Ray, who watched the German shepherd warily.  
  
Again, Christine spoke, and her voice was shaking a bit now too as she repeated: "What do you know of Erik?"   
  
At first, Nathan was unsure of how to begin. In his mind, he'd created an imaginary situation about when and how he would speak to Christine Daye. He had thought of what exactly he'd say to her, how, and what their plan would be. Now that it was actually time to tell her what they needed to, he couldn't think of a single word.   
  
Instead, he started the obvious. "I know that he is very dangerous."   
  
Ray inched into the room and sank down onto the couch. The dog never took its eyes off of him, and eventually, Ray learned to ignore the scrutiny and just waited for a time to jump into the discussion without interrupting.   
  
"He is not dangerous to me." The certainty in the girl's voice threw Nathan off a bit. He glanced at Ray, who wasn't looking at him but...at Christine...There was a bit of jealousy there, Nathan noticed, and he figured that it was permitted... Neither of them had any way of knowing what went on between Christine and Erik during this time, especially considering how much under his influence she seemed to be.   
  
"That may be...But he is lying to you. He must have told you something to keep him with you all of this time..." Though even as he said it, Nathan began to doubt... He was well aware of the power that Erik had. A simple look would be enough to change a man's mind...to make him forget...  
  
Forget...  
  
At Christine's blank look, Nathan suddenly realized just how she'd been with Erik for this long. "Dear God...he's brainwashed you..."   
  
Christine's face turned ashen at the statement, and her head shook, slightly, in an instinctive gesture of denial. "No...I'm fine. He hasn't brainwashed me...I...I have to go back now." The cat was dropped unceremoniously on the couch, and Christine snatched up her purse and keys. "Let me pass..."   
  
With all his willpower, Nathan stayed where he was. Ray stood as well, and moved behind the FBI agent...ready to stop Christine if she tried to force her way by. "I can't...Listen to me...You can't go back to him, Christine. We'll keep you here forcefully if necessary...until you answer...Where is he?"  
  
There was determination in Christine's stance, and her eyes narrowed as her gaze went from Nathan to Ray. She was incapable of hatred, but she was angrier than Ray had ever seen her, and she was upset. "No! I won't tell you anything about him...You want to turn him in, don't you? He hasn't done anything, I know it!"  
  
"Christine..." Nathan was patient. He knew that she'd been through a lot...and this wasn't going to be easy to say...or easy to accept. In fact, he wouldn't be surprised if she would never be able to accept that she'd only been deceived this entire time... "Listen to me...You will stay away from him. If you go back, we can't help you."  
  
"I don't need your help!" Christine's hands shook with unsteady determination. "Please...please just let me by. He has not lied to me..."   
  
Ray's voice finally cut in, much to his triumph. "Has he told you about his face?"  
  
There was a long pause in which Christine looked as though she'd been struck. She didn't speak for a moment, but she kept her eyes locked on theirs with bewilderment and uncertainty. No...She hadn't been told...Nathan knew that without question. In all likelihood, she'd accepted the mask as something natural and entirely justified. The fact that she hadn't asked him about the mask and so he hadn't had to lie was her only relief...but Nathan stepped forward and took her hand.   
  
She did not pull away this time. "No..."   
  
"It is like a skull's."   
  
Nathan shot a look at Ray for him to stop, and he did, mercifully, while Christine cringed and gripped his hand tighter. She kept her eyes downcast and away from theirs... Despite his pity, Nathan began to relax. Surely she would come with them now...She would be relieved that they had come after her and found her...This would make her understand! She had to see what was going on and why they'd been desperate for her to listen to them...and believe them...or at least believe that Erik was a danger. If not to her, then still in general...   
  
Then her eyes shifted back to them, and she spoke spitefully, "I do not believe you."   
  
The hope that had been rising in Nathan disappeared completely with those five words. He glanced at Ray, who looked helpless and a bit shocked... They were all still, paused...Christine, stunned by her own abruptness, and the other two, realizing that it was going to be much harder than they originally thought to win Christine to their side.   
  
Nathan was the first to snap out of it, and he spoke softly to Ray, though he kept his gaze on Christine. "Stay here. I will be back shortly." He left the apartment quickly and returned to the car that was parked on the street outside. He pealed out in front of traffic and ignored the blaring horns as he turned onto street after street and rushed towards the police department...   
  
If Christine did not accept his word, then he would show her the files. Then she would have no choice...It would all be there in writing.   
  
She would have to believe them.   
  
It took Nathan a few hours to obtain the documents and return to the apartment again. By this point, he was aggravated, incensed, and frantic. When he knocked on Christine's door, Ray was the one to answer it, looking scattered...a mood that only added to Nathan's exasperation.   
  
Nathan entered and dropped his coat on the armchair and nearly smothered the cat...that took off yowling to an unknown part of the house. "Where is she?"   
  
"In her room...I thought that she needed rest."   
  
As they opened the door, Nathan's heart was already beating somewhere in his throat...pounding, actually...He could already almost sense what they would find.   
  
Christine Daye's room was empty, and the window was open.   
  
The fury and frustration couldn't be contained, and Nathan smacked Ray in the chest with his files. "You idiot! You had to have known that her room held a fire escape! You let her get away! Do you have any idea what this means?? Now we might never see her again!"   
  
Before he could even finish the rant, Ray had hurried to the window and was pathetically calling Christine's name down the stairs...before he climbed out. Nathan heard the clang of his shoes, and then the echo as Ray reached the alley.   
  
With a long moan, Nathan sat on Christine's bed and tossed the files aside before laying back and covering his face in exhaustion. If what they had said reached Erik...if any of it did...  
  
God help them all.   
  
~*~  
  
It was dark when Christine found herself hurrying down the streets of New York. It hadn't taken her long to escape... Soon after she had told Ray she had a headache, the window was open and she had made her way down the fire escape so quietly that she knew he hadn't heard and would not be after her...   
  
They were wrong. Erik wasn't that way...His face wasn't that way...She was certain that he had to be completely normal underneath the mask...and when he trusted her enough, then he would show her. She hadn't questioned it at all before entirely because she didn't want to make him angry. It was like his childhood...It wasn't something that she could simply ask him, but the knowledge would be granted to her eventually...She was certain that it would...   
  
Christine struggled to fight back the thoughts and emotions that came with seeing Ray again. There was a certain familiarity that she felt at the sound of his voice, the way that he spoke to her...It had taken a while for her to feel it, but it was there...And she found that she had missed him...despite not even thinking his name for several weeks. But why hadn't she? It really didn't make sense, when she thought of it... How could she have forgotten him? How could she have allowed all the time that they had spent together disappear within the crevices of her mind?   
  
And Nathan Radford...at the sound of his name, Christine at first hadn't felt nor remembered anything...but...Something began to form at the back of her mind, slowly, like puzzle pieces fitting together to form a larger picture. A lamplight...and a bench...the man with the yellow eyes...but why couldn't she remember anything that he said to her?   
  
It was at that moment that someone grabbed her wrist, spun her around, and Christine felt a knife at her throat. The blade was cold, cruel, and it flashed in the dim light of the street lamps. Her heart twisted in fear, and she wondered how this could have happened...It was right before she had even reached the end of the alley by her apartment...and yet she was so close...She could see lights directly ahead...If she screamed...  
  
This situation would have been jarringly familiar if it, too, hadn't been put out of her immediate memory... It wasn't something that Christine wished to remember, and so she only gasped and fought as if it were the first time that she'd been threatened this way. "Let me go!"   
  
Someone's whisper was by her ear, but it was not the calm and cool voice she thought of...far back in the recesses of her mind. This voice was rank with alcohol and something else that she couldn't quite place. But there was almost laughter present, a maniacal sound that petrified her. "I know who you're with, I know what he did...he killed our--" The raspy sentence was cut off as Christine felt herself being pulled again, away from the man, and the grip was so recognizable that she shrank against the chill with a near-fainting relief.   
  
A cloak shielded her, soft and inviting, and she held fast against the man...closing her ears and her eyes to whatever went on around them in her own terror. And so she heard nothing...Her small whimpers of fright for both herself and for Erik were all that filled her ears...   
  
She did not know that the man who had threatened her moments before had his throat slashed in an instant, and was then left in the alleyway while Erik lifted her in his arms and held her gently, whispering of gentle love and comfort. It would have been a shocking contrast to witness...but, luckily for Christine, unconsciousness claimed her the moment that she had heard his voice...though she continued to hear it...and her soft whispers echoed his.   
  
"I love you, my angel..."   
  
And her reply, "I love you..."   
  
They faded into the night. 


	16. Porcelain Promises

A few hours passed before she woke. 

Christine's head felt heavy and blurry, and she sat up with a soft sigh and held the covers tightly against herself. Her shoes had been taken off and been set next to the bed in a careful, thoughtful way, and she knew immediately that Erik had been the one to bring her back. It was dark outside; she discerned this because the windows were open. Her room was the only well-lit one in the suite...but she usually spent little time in it and so despite the windows, the light was something that she rarely saw. Christine imagined that it must be sometime in the early morning...or late night...

In slow movements she stood and wobbled slightly as her feet came into contact with the cool carpet. In the back of her mind, she remembered that she had gone somewhere earlier...but where? Her apartment, maybe...? But that wasn't possible...Erik would never allow her to go anywhere by herself...He would say that it was too dangerous. He would laugh and click his tongue at her innocent nature, and then he would take her wherever she asked to go.

But she had gone...and by herself.

Gradually, she began to recall distinct details. The car...Ray's face when he first saw her...her shaking hands as she tried to open the door...and the policeman's accusatory gaze about her being brainwashed. Simply remembering these things made Christine shudder fearfully, but this time she was unable to push them out of her mind. He'd told her things about Erik...and not just the policeman, but...Ray as well... Something about Erik's face...it was something that had frightened her...

...Like a skull's...

No, she hadn't believed it. She couldn't believe it. But why would Ray say such a thing? Erik had never told her about his face... He always acted as though it wasn't even an issue at all! Christine couldn't believe that someone who did not know Erik as well as she did could know about his face. And why couldn't Erik trust her enough to show her now, after it'd been so long? Did he still feel like he needed to hide from her?

For the first time, Christine felt sharp, cold doubt pierce her mind.

What if...everything that they had told her was the truth?

Shakily, she brushed her hair back from her face and held her hands on her cheeks. The coolness calmed her a bit, and she drew in a deep breath. She would have to see for herself... The thought was oddly soothing... After she saw, she wouldn't have these worries any longer.

She could hear quiet piano music coming from the other room, and it was strange that she hadn't even noticed it until she was nearly to the door of her room. Her hand rested slightly and steadily on the doorknob before she turned it and inched the door open. She wasn't worried about Erik hearing her... He never heard her while he was playing. Usually when he played, she would sit behind him and listen for hours on end until he was finished...and then he would make her something to eat and sit with her, never having anything himself but an occasional glass of wine...

This had become one of their many routines and something that Christine looked forward to devotedly.

Erik's back was to her now, and his fingers brushed the keys gracefully, purely gliding over them...It was as though he wasn't even touching them at all, but simply creating a soothing sound--reminiscent of Baroque--out of thin air. Perhaps it was Bach...or his own...Christine could never tell.

As she approached, impending trepidation began to overtake her...a dark cloud that was festering with uncertainty and determination. A few times, she stopped; her footsteps were soft and indecisive as she contemplated to simply...let things continue the way they were. Christine could easily return to the couch now... She could pretend as though she had never heard what Ray had said to her. It would be far too easy...

But...

As Erik turned the page, she saw the gleam of the white mask in the candlelight, and all of her resolution returned. Christine closed her eyes briefly, and then she continued to come forward.

The music began to build into crescendo, and at the same moment Christine's hand rose to brush the air just behind him, so close...so close, and yet she could not make herself go the final inch.

In a peculiar way, she did not wish to see his face... Christine did want to continue to believe that he was normal and that her misgivings were unwarranted and mere horrible assumptions. But how long could she continue this way...under the power of Erik's influence and naive to everything but his elegant splendor and grace?

At this point, Christine believed that her mesmerized feelings for Erik were entirely her fault. She had allowed herself to let them happen.

What if it was necessary for both of them that she needed to see?... She couldn't stand to be under false illusions anymore. No, she had to know for sure... Things could not continue this way! She would never trust him, and she would always believe that he never trusted her... She had to see...It was necessary.

Resolve by her sudden strength of mind, Christine seized the edge of the mask and lifted it...all in one motion. It felt cold in her hand, and she drew back instinctively, taken aback by her courage. The line was crossed! There was no stopping what would happen now, and the anticipation made her almost afraid.

The music stopped suddenly. It was not a dramatic, angry sort of silence...simply silence...but somehow she was all the more unnerved.

Erik's head turned, slowly, and his eyes met hers.

But Christine did not see his eyes.

There was no other way to describe his face but as that of a living corpse...the living dead, personified by emotion--or lack thereof! No, all she saw was the expression...utter calm...and silence...Silence that made her heart stop in her chest. And his face! Not even a face, or what could be called one... The nose was nothing but a gaping hole, and the deformed side contrasted awfully with the other...It did not look real at all!

Like a skull's!

The skin was so thin that it seemed to be stretched yellow, discolored...and his eyes that had appeared so normal to her before were sunk back into the recesses of the eye sockets, staring back at her with an unsettling steadiness that Christine did not comprehend...Nor did she want to! She screamed a short scream that ended in a choke. Her hands flew to her mouth to cover the sound, and the mask fell from her hand and landed on the floor between them.

With infinite slowness, his eyes went to the mask...and then they rose up to hers, locking again. His glare made his eyes seem as though they were on fire, and he stood with refined leisure...flexing his hands as his eyes remained trained on Christine's.

Christine was terrified. She moved back, sobbing a bit, and her eyes darted around the room like a frightened and trapped animal's...She couldn't decide which way to go. The options were far too many, and soon she could only cover her own face. She couldn't bring herself to look at Erik's. Her voice escaped in a moan, a feeble supplication... "Please..."

She did not need to look up to know that he was moving. She could still see a little bit between her fingers, and she saw that he'd come from behind the piano bench, but then did not approach her further.

However, his tone of voice was enough to alarm her: sinister, angry...but still so calm, "Please?"

Despite the fact that he did not come forward, Christine felt herself retreating. She was breathing so sharply that it made her chest ache.

The fact that Ray had been telling the truth made all of her thoughts jumbled and confused...tangled in her mind like a web...How could this be? What else had they said to her? It was all true! Erik t had tricked her exactly as they'd claimed he had...and he'd kept her here with his own will...and against hers (but only subconsciously; Christine tried to convince herself of this).

Her subconscious was awake now!

Before...she'd been so certain that Erik would never hurt her. And now she was not. "Please don't be mad! I'm sorry, I..."

Eerily, he spoke, "I'm not mad." Though his continuous glare said otherwise.

At first, she didn't know what to do. She couldn't sort out her thoughts with him here...or with her head down and her hands covering her eyes so that she did not have to see him...She couldn't bear to see! With a short tremble, Christine backed away a little more and then ran for the safety her room.

Erik followed her with no particular urgency. "Running away?"

When she reached her door, Christine stopped...She didn't know why she had stopped, but something in his voice made her freeze. Her hand was on the knob again...like before...If only she could turn it...

All she could manage to do was speak softly, her terror increasing by degrees, "Yes...I'm going to sleep now..."

"No."

No? Christine felt her heart drop, her breathing become shallow, and her hand on the knob tighten...almost convulsively. "What...what do you mean?"

"Turn around." Directly behind her came his voice, and Christine stifled a gasp.

Christine shook her head and her hand felt cold; all the blood had rushed out of it...she was gripping so hard... "No, no..."

She felt his hand on the top of her head, and he turned her around himself. She could not resist, but she kept her eyes shut tightly as retaliation...He could not make her open them! "Don't!"

Erik's hand moved down to her chin, lifting it up ever so gently. She could hardly hear his whisper... "Open your eyes."

The force of his voice was too much for her to battle. Christine's eyes opened, slowly, and she struggled not to look at the remnants of what might have been a face...But she looked...and she gasped again, softer.

Immediately, his hand tightened on her chin so that she could not move at all, and he lifted her face slightly. "Yes, that's what I want to see...Keep them open."

With all of her will, Christine could not disobey him! Her eyes widened further, and she whispered almost too softly to be heard, begging him. "Erik, don't...please don't...Let me go..."

The voice that had been so lovely to her before was now like a hiss. Erik lowered his face so that it was level with hers, and he kept her head forced still...so that she could not look away. "Go, Christine? Go where?"

Christine pressed herself against the door. She would be content to distance herself in that way since she could not turn her head. "I want to back into my room!" She tried to struggle a little, but his one hand held her in place. "Stop it!"

His grip on her face was released, but Erik did not move back...He kept her there now with her fear. His eyes were like red-hot coals, and they sparked dangerously as his stare intensified. "What?"

Again, Christine's hand moved to the knob...and she struggled to shift just enough so that she could open the door and go inside...But it was hard to do with Erik so close! "Leave me alone! I want to be alone...I have to think..." Tears were on her face now, but Christine was not sobbing aloud...She was too petrified for that and still in a state of shock.

Erik did not say a word, but he reached down and took her hand in his cold one, removing it from the door handle.

For the first time, her hand was rigid and unresponsive in his, and she jerked, attempting to pull away. Christine's voice was firmer this time, and very much unlike hers, "Let me go!"

Erik then suddenly pulled her from the door by her hand, far too close to him. "I don't think so."

Caught off guard, Christine nearly fell against him, but she stopped herself just in time. "Erik!"

The calmness in his voice was venomous. Erik did not let her go. "Isn't this what you want, Christine?"

"No! No, I don't want this!" She struggled against his hold, but the effort was futile. She was beginning to be angry...and at him...He was the one who was at fault for this! "You tricked me!"

Irritably, he brought her closer, and his voice was a hiss once more...malicious in itself. "I did no such thing. Your misconceptions were no fault of mine."

Christine shook her head, protesting weakly. "You made it so that I would never ask!" She felt herself gaining a little bit of nerve, and she pushed against him for however long she could last. "Let go of me!"

As she struggled, Erik took her by the hands and pushed them down by her sides, holding them there and pulling her forward so that his face was forced in front of hers. "And instead of asking, this is what you've done!"

Again and desperately, Christine fought to pull away, but he was far too strong for her. "You wouldn't have told me the truth! It would have been like before...You would have changed the subject..."

"And now you know why. You must feel quite satisfied with yourself now, Christine."

A shudder wracked Christine's body, and she did not know whether it was from fear or disgust. "Erik...Erik, please stop...I'm sorry..."

His response was firm and not a request...An order. "This changes nothing, Christine."

Christine shook her head slowly, and she did not make it clear whether she was confirming what he said or denying it.

Erik leaned down-so close! His lips were by her ear, whispering so softly... "This changes nothing."

Sobbing, Christine turned her face against the door, attempting to pull back, but she was too weak to even try anymore. "Don't...Just stop it...stop..."

Slowly he turned her so that his voice was in her other ear. "Not a thing."

He released her hands, and then she felt his thumbs touching her cheeks...stroking them, lovingly and gentle... But Erik's voice was frighteningly dissimilar...cold and darkly intense. "You've made a mistake, Christine." She sobbed again and he hushed her, so tenderly, "Shh...Yes, you have..."

Her soft sobs increased until they were all that she could hear. "I'm sorry!" She raised her own hands to try to push his off of her face...and resist his touch...

"Good." For a moment his grip tightened on her face, and then he let go, but only to take her hands again so that she could not force him away. "Very good."

Extremely slowly, Christine began to sink to the ground from her position against the door...She no longer had the strength to hold herself up. Her voice shook and was occasionally broken by a sob. "Erik...Erik, please..."

One of his arms went around her shoulders, holding her so that she would not fall. She did not look at him. His voice stayed smooth, so composed, though she could hear his fury beneath it...and she feared it surfacing. He hushed her again, "Shh... Do not think that I am angry with you. Everybody makes mistakes. Even I... I trusted you."

Christine found herself in an appalling dilemma... She tried to pull away from his arm, but that only meant that she wound up moving closer to his face...and she couldn't decide which was worse. "If...if you trusted me, you would have told me!"

The glare that had never left his eyes deepened as Christine ended up closer to his face. "You never asked."

That fact had escaped Christine's mind, and for a moment, she realized that he was right. Suddenly, she was claimed by fear once more, and she fought with a strength and momentum she hadn't known that she'd possessed. She wasn't crying any longer, but...felt anger! "Erik, let go!"

Abruptly Erik turned, keeping her with him so that his back was now to her door. Then he began to push her, forcing her to walk backwards as he came forward.

Now Christine did not even try to reason with him...She twisted and struggled, crying out and fighting against his grasp... but as Erik continued to push her backward without faltering, Christine gave up and obediently went with him. She didn't fight again until she realized he had forced her out onto the balcony and the railing pressed against her back.

Thoughts of long ago surfaced in her mind...when he had taken her underground, after she'd known he'd killed someone...And as she began to scream, she half wondered if perhaps he would kill her now. The chilly night air felt unreal, and his cold fingers had her in a vice-like grip, making it impossible to even move an inch away... All of the time they had spent together no longer existed...Only this...His face, murders, and deception...or what she viewed as a deception... Christine gripped Erik's arms to prevent him from pushing her over the side, but it seemed as if he had stopped.

Erik took her by the shoulders and gently turned her to look out over the city. Lights twinkled back at her, bright and welcoming, but she felt cold. "No one can hear you, Christine. Look at that city... Do you hear all of that noise? Your screams are lost...one tiny sound among millions..."

Terrified of being so close to the railing, Christine shrank back...against Erik, though it seemed the better option of being so close to such a great height. She trembled uncontrollably. "Erik..."

Again his lips were near her ear, so close to her...that she felt his breath caress her temple. He didn't speak for several moments, but she felt the familiarity of the situation as much as he did...She remembered, and it seemed like such a long time ago...when she had stood on this balcony with him...

In a voice so soft, Erik spoke, "Lost...and of all that is out there in that city that could have found you...it was this." He turned her again to his face harshly, and his voice was suddenly angry...rising to become lethal, "Are you sorry, Christine?"

Christine was unsure whether he meant if she was sorry that she'd taken his mask, or sorry for having met him in the first place. She tried to answer and not look at him in the same moment, but she only ended up stammering in a voice that sounded far away in her own fear, "Yes!" She didn't know herself if she meant 'yes' for both...but the answer came so easily...

Again, Erik tilted her back over the railing, and he leaned over her this time. His voice was quiet...deadly...He was so close! "Really..."

At first, Christine tried again to fight him, but she was not strong enough, and in her position it was useless. She began to shake instead, and her voice more was of a gasp now. "Stop, stop..."

But Erik did not stop until Christine was viewing the city upside-down, and she whimpered again as all the blood rushed to her head and she began to feel faint. The only thing holding her up now was the support of Erik's arms as she clutched at him helplessly. She sobbed, quietly, "I'm sorry..."

"I know. But it's too late."

The city swam before her eyes, and Christine held onto Erik tighter, a small ringing sound beginning in the depths of her consciousness. "Pull me back, Erik! Please pull me back!"

"I can't pull you back. Only you can do that, Christine..." Christine's eyes were shut tight, but she could still feel his gaze on her...never wavering...if he continued this way, they would both be over the balcony in moments...

Willing to do anything at this point to escape possible death, Christine hugged herself to him so that she would not be dangling over the side of the building. Being this close to him now was nothing less than horrific, but it was the lesser terror...

As she did this, Erik's arms went around her as though he would return her artificial embrace, but then he seemed to change his mind and stood up straight, bringing her back over as well. He did not let go and still held her just as close...so that her body was pressed against his. The moment felt strongly similar to the one they had shared earlier that night...when he'd rescued her...and he whispered just as softly, "Tell me that you love me now, my Innocent..."

That time seemed too long ago to Christine, and she hardly could remember ever speaking the words at all. She was silent now and stiff in his arms, the tears still shining on her cheeks.

She said not a word.

As the silence stretched on and Erik waited, his embrace began to tighten around her. At first, the change was too gradual for her to notice, but when Christine began to sense the danger in it, she tried to pull away...But her effort was only met with Erik's incredible increase of strength. Then she felt him shiver as well, though she knew that it was not because of the cold. It became difficult to breathe, and Christine finally spoke only to make him stop... "I...I love you..."

With a sudden, unexpected movement, Erik pulled away from her furiously, and left the balcony, forcing her inside with him... The door barely missed her as he slammed it behind them...so loudly that she thought she heard the sound of breaking glass.

Startled, Christine struggled briefly and then screamed, pulling back on his hand with all of her might...even as she realized by now that it was hopeless. "Erik!"

In a blind rage, Erik dragged her across the suite and threw open her door, pulling her across the threshold even as she made a desperate lunge to try and grip the door frame. Her hand temporarily made contact, but then Erik tore her away from it, and with surprising violence, he threw her onto her bed in a single, strong motion...using all of his force...

Christine was too stunned to move. She tumbled backwards almost to the headboard, but then sat up and looked at Erik with wide, terrified eyes.

She watched him in astonishment as he only turned and left the room, closing the door behind. She heard it lock with an audible click.


	17. The Next Sunset

The profound silence was almost enough to take away what remained of Christine▓s sanity. She stayed on the bed for a long time...and kept the covers drawn over her until shafts of sunlight began to creep in through the windowpanes. Gradually, it grew brighter in the room, and only then did Christine have the courage to lower the blankets.

To anyone else, the bedroom would appear unchanged. To her, despite the light, it was suddenly darker and more ominous... Her fear and dismay reverberated off the walls around her... She could still hear her own screams and Erik▓s quiet, contained fury.

Where was he? The house was so silent...not even piano music... Not a trace of anything!

The sound of breathing made her heart leap...until she realized that it was her own. Christine sighed slowly and tried to smile at her own fear, but she could not even manage to think of smiling now...and the attempt turned into a grimace. Her hands shook on the comforter, and she felt her nails pressing the soft material into her palms. It was tempting to duck back underneath the warm sanctuary and forget what she saw.

Forget...There were so many things that she longed to forget! Why couldn▓t Ray be with her now? Ray...who would never frighten her like this, or allow anyone else to...

Christine stood, but she took the blankets with her. She felt a childish urge to hold onto them...and her hands would not uncurl to let them go. In slow movements, she went to the door...even as she knew that she could not open it...

That face! She hadn▓t ever imagined anything so hideous...so twisted...It was like something out of a nightmare. Not once during the time she had spent with him had Christine ever considered the possibility that Erik might not be handsome underneath the mask...not when it was perfectly logical that both sides of a face usually match. At the worst, she▓d anticipated a scar...or a few scars. Nothing about him could have prepared her for what she actually saw...not even Ray▓s words...

Guilt played in her thoughts...at the idea that his face was the only thing that had sent her running from Erik...but she pushed it away. He was a murderer. The reality of his faГade only made her come to terms with that fact...the way that she should have before...long before...She▓d let everything get out of hand. What had she been thinking?

Christine closed her eyes tightly and let go of the covers with one hand...The doorknob felt cool as she turned it, and it rattled slightly against the lock.

Locked in! Like a prisoner...

Fearfully, Christine backed away from the door...terrified that Erik had heard...wherever he was. Nothing escaped Erik▓s attention...nothing...

No one came.

The room was entirely lit now, and Christine sat on the edge of her bed and watched the sun shine on the buildings outside of her window.

If she called to someone below, maybe there was a possibility that they would hear her. Surely the fifth floor could not be so high that no one would notice a scream... She couldn▓t stay in here with Erik any longer. Not with what he▓s done...or with all of the discovered deception...

But Christine could not figure out why she had come with Erik in the first place...That part of her memory seemed to have gone permanently blank.

Then she recalled the telephone. The thought came with such an immense relief that Christine did not have time to feel inane over not realizing it before... All the rooms in the suite had a telephone...including her own. She seized the cold, white receiver and dialed the number to the front desk...Her hands were trembling almost too much to manage it.

It only rang once. "Front desk. How may I help you?" The line sounded so normal and out of place in her current situation...She almost laughed aloud...

But not now... Christine▓s heart was about to beat out of her chest. She kept her voice down to a very low whisper, and her eyes stayed locked on the door. "Hello...I...I locked myself in my room...Is there anyone who can come help me?"

A long pause came from the other end of the line...and then a puzzled voice. "Miss...It▓s impossible to lock the doors from the outside...Surely there is some sort of obstruction..."

She knew Erik far too well to be confused, and so she only asked again, "Can someone come help me?"

"...Of course. There will be someone there shortly. What room number is this?"

For the life of her, Christine had no idea! "Um..." Quickly she checked the list of numbers on the telephone...and sure enough, it had the room number as well.

Relieved, she told him quietly and hung up.

True to their word, it was not very long... and the casual call of "room service!" never sounded so beautiful to Christine▓s ears. She willed the woman to hurry...She had in her mind the ghastly image of Erik killing anyone who tried to pass the threshold...

Shuddering, her panic mounting to perilous proportions, Christine silently prayed for the woman▓s safety.

In his wrath, she did not know what Erik would do, and she did not want to find out.

The maid did not understand how Christine could have managed to lock herself inside of the bedroom. The door only needed to be opened from the outside, and there appeared to be no hindrance whatsoever... She also did not comprehend the fear in Christine▓s taut, white face...or why the girl grabbed her arm and held onto her for a moment... But it scared the young maid out of her wits. She would report what she had seen later...but by then, Christine▓s collected unsteadiness would be elevated in rumor as unintelligible hysteria.

When Christine left, she was sure not to look around her. The last things that she wished to acknowledge were the shattered windows (the maid gasped, "Heavens!") and the piano music that now lay strewn about the room. She didn▓t look at anything that would remind her of Erik in the slightest...If she did, Christine was afraid that she would not be able to leave. She couldn▓t allow her mind to change...not with freedom so close. There would never be another opportunity... and for all she knew, Erik could still be in the room, watching her...

But nothing was there.

Not a thing.

There was only one place where Christine would feel safe, and by six o▓clock that same day she was there with only one suitcase and a smile that felt unnatural and strained.

Her father came to the porch to greet her as the taxi drove up...and as soon as she felt the familiarity of his arms, she relaxed and started to cry. He asked no questions right away, but he held her as she sobbed into the soft material of his shirt...He was the way she remembered him...and with the faint smell of mint...

What Christine adored most about her parents was that they both knew that comforting came before questions.

The old farmhouse was not fancy by any means. It wasn▓t even nice... But Christine would never see anyplace else as home, and she welcomed the sight so much that for a few moments, she never wanted to leave again. It looked so beautiful in the evening. Dusk was settling over the quiet land, and the sun reflected off the small pond in hues of yellow and pink. She sat outside with her father for hours and watched the sunset as she used to do when she was a little girl...Her mother brought them both herbal tea, and she looked down at it and suddenly realized just how much she▓d changed. Her family always seemed frozen in time...They stayed exactly same while she was off at school, and when she returned, it was like she had only been on vacation... She could fit right back in with her parents like a misplaced puzzle piece. Now she was the odd one. Home was still home for her, but for the first time, she felt grown up...and separated from her parents.

There was no way that she could even begin to tell them about Erik. She could only imagine the revulsion on her mother▓s face...and her father▓s alarm and desire to call the police... Even after everything, Christine could never betray Erik that way.

From the porch swing, her father watched her with concern, and at his bidding Christine stood and sat next to him...breathing in the sweet scent of pine as she drew her legs up next to her.

With a soft sigh, she let her head drop onto his shoulder as the swing lazily went back and forth, and she did not allow a chill to overtake her when she wondered what Erik might be doing at this very moment. Her father▓s comforting arm made everything seem okay.

"We▓ve been worried about you..."

Christine stiffened against the questions she sensed behind that statement. She didn▓t speak for a moment while she weighed her words carefully. "You don▓t need to be...I▓m fine. I just missed you."

Her father took a drink before responding; there was a hurt tone in his voice, and it made Christine▓s heart swell with guilt. "You haven▓t been answering our calls."

How could she explain to him that she couldn▓t answer because she hadn▓t been there?

Christine swallowed hard, and her hands gripped the fabric of her father▓s shirt. "I▓ve been really busy...with school and everything..."

"How is that going?"

"Fine..." Christine hated to lie with a passion, and now she was lying through her teeth...and she wasn▓t very good at it. Her father wasn▓t fooled; the pale Scandinavian knew her better than anyone...and he watched her now with such kind eyes that she could hardly bear it.

She tried to block out the tenderness in his voice. "You know that you can trust me with any problems that you▓re having... We▓ll help you, angel..."

The nickname made her shudder, just slightly, but her father felt it, and he pulled back to look at Christine in the face. She couldn▓t meet his eyes and ducked her head so that her hair hid her expression. Christine couldn▓t permit him to see her tears...

"I▓m fine, Papa. You worry too much about me..."

"Not enough. Your mother and I were going to come see you next weekend if we couldn▓t get a hold of you before then. I▓m glad that you beat us to it."

This time she could be sincere. "So am I."

The quiet seclusion was her strength...her parents and their love... With them, she could survive anything. Christine never wanted to go back to New York, and it was on the tip of her tongue to tell her father just that...but as she thought of all the money that he▓d saved to send her there...She could not force herself to bring it up.

As if he read her mind, her father smiled at her a little. "When will you have to be back at school?"

Christine gathered herself and looked up at him. "I have a little while, I..." Truth to be told, she didn▓t know where she stood in any of her classes...or how Erik could have taken care of such a thing...She hadn▓t attended school in weeks.

Every fiber of her being longed to tell her parents everything...to have them hold her and tell her that it was all right, that she hadn▓t betrayed Erik at all, and everything that she had done was justified and correct...Why was she beginning to have doubts? What had she done, exactly? She▓d taken off his mask...Christine hadn▓t asked, but...he wouldn▓t have let her! She▓d had no other choice. And she hadn▓t run from him because of his face...though as much as Christine tried to convince herself of that, the nagging voice in the back of her mind continued to tell her otherwise. It was because of his face. She ran...because of how he looked...not because he was a murderer. If that had been the reason, she wouldn▓t have ever even tolerated his friendship from the start.

It didn▓t occur to Christine that when she had merely called room service, she hadn▓t just betrayed Erik...She had betrayed Erik's location. 


	18. Endless Dark

It became necessary to take extra precautions.

The day before, Nathan had set up Ray with a wire. It was like a cell phone, only smaller...and could dial Nathan▓s number at one push of a button. Voice activated, recorder...everything... And even though Nathan made it strict to Ray that he should only use it for emergencies, the kid was constantly calling him on the wire to say something or other. Nathan made sure that Ray could only call him ... If Ray were able to call the police from the wire, it would be like sticking tuna in front of a cat and waving it alluringly.

Nathan had a reputation at the academy where the FBI had trained him that followed him to every department: He never allowed himself to be phased by the bad guy. Ever.

The bad guy... Always, there was a bad guy, and Nathan would bring that guy to court...where he was tried for his crimes...and then the bad guy went away to jail. It was as simple as that. The bad guy paid for what he did; the good guy was awarded the new corner office. It might be a black and white way of looking at things, but it granted Nathan his paycheck, and he never saw a reason to question it. He still didn▓t...at least not completely... In fact, he was almost relieved after learning of Erik▓s aggressive role in this situation...it sure as Hell made things easier. Nathan was two inches away from calling the police on him once and for all...because Erik wouldn▓t be expecting it, and it might gain them the upper hand. He knew that Erik would not hurt Christine... So he and Ray still had power over him...the smallest semblance of it...

But Nathan was willing to work with whatever they could get.

The phone call came while he was looking over old files. Nathan was leaning back in his chair with his feet up on the desk and a pen in his mouth... He absently flicked the cap against his teeth and read detail after detail...looking for anything... and finding nothing.

The ring was jarring and made him jump, but he picked up the receiver calmly... assuming it to be Ray...again... "Hello?"

"Agent Radford?"

The voice wasn▓t recognizable. "Yes?"

"This is James Murphy...I▓m a clerk at the Plaza Hotel." The guy sounded young, around Ray▓s age if not only a year or two older.

Even so, Nathan didn▓t see what this had to do with him...and he still felt a little hostile towards the Plaza Hotel. "Yes?"

"We found the girl that you were looking for..."

Immediately Nathan▓s feet were off the desk and he was standing, ready to grab the wire and call Ray. "Where? Where is she right now??"

A pause. "Um...we▓re not sure, exactly..."

"Well then you didn▓t really find her, did you?" Nathan▓s voice dripped with sarcasm and...frustration. He▓d honestly hoped for a phone call like this one...prayed for it, practically... And he was not a man of religious affiliations.

"One of our maids found her locked in a bedroom."

Alarmed, Nathan began to pace. "What?? Which room? If I came right now, could you..."

"Of course--"

"--I▓ll be there in five minutes."

The search of Erik▓s room proved to be less exciting than Nathan had hoped. He found tons of sheet music...and a broken door...but there was nothing inside of Christine▓s room, and there appeared to be only one other bedroom there, which was untouched. It was odd...but he wasn▓t surprised.

Nathan knelt by the broken glass and picked up a few shards with his gloved fingers...inspecting the edges for blood... He saw nothing, but they would be taken to the lab and analyzed either way. A few of the hotel employees hung around in the background with the agents that Nathan had called. He hadn▓t given exact details...just that a girl was missing and that he▓d found the room, but not the girl... Nathan didn▓t even give Christine▓s name. Calling wasn▓t the same as turning Erik in, but he knew that Erik would view it that way...

Still, he needed help...He would think about how he would drop this small case later on. It wasn▓t wise to lie to the FBI, but Nathan was becoming rather talented at it.

Now posed the question of whether or not he would inform Ray of these new developments.

He would...later. Right now he wanted lunch.

Nathan sighed and peeled off the latex gloves. "All of you can finish up here, I doubt we▓ll find anything else. Can I talk to the maid before I go?"

At his request, the little maid was brought inside, shaking and shivering, and Nathan sat her down on the couch. Her almond eyes kept flitting back to the broken glass with fear, her mouth agape and trembling.

Already he could see that she would not be much help. "Is there any information that you can give me at all, Miss Gonzalez?"

"I...I have already told them as much as I know!" The light accent in her voice was barely noticeable, but that along with the New Yorker twang made her a bit hard to understand.

"Did Miss Daye say anything to you?"

"Who?"

Nathan gave a slight glare over to the other agents, who looked away sheepishly. "Miss Daye is the girl who was locked inside of the room."

The woman shook her head wildly; pieces of hair flying like whips. "No, no...she didn▓t say anything...She just left. But she was white and shaking and looked about to faint."

"Can you describe to me how she looked? ...By that I mean her general appearance." Many people had already confirmed "white and shaking."

"Um...well it was dark in the room. She had light hair, I think..." The maid▓s voice trembled, and she didn▓t seem sure about whether or not she was giving the correct information.

It was good enough for Nathan. Not that he ever had any doubt that the room was Erik▓s...but it was always better to be sure...even though his gut feelings had never steered him wrong before. He just wished that he had more gut feelings about this case...It seemed as though everything was slipping slowly out of his grasp. That confused him...this was a lead! Of sorts...even though he still had no idea where Christine Daye was.

Nathan snapped his folder shut and accepted a cup of steaming coffee from one of the hotel clerks. "That▓s enough. Thank you."

Annoyance was becoming his primary drive. It was annoying that Erik got away with all of these things... Ridiculous, really! What right did he have to go around and act as though he owned everything and everyone? Didn▓t he realize that there were limitations? Punishments? ...Something??

With a sigh, Nathan gave the other agents a few extra details about the false case, threw his coffee away, and thanked the hotel clerks again before he left... But he instructed the others to stay while he headed towards a restaurant closer to midtown.

He was hungry. It felt like ages since Nathan had even had a sandwich, and the smell was enough to drive him mad as he wandered into a small sandwich shop on the corner of two main streets. He also felt very thankful for even having enough cash on him. Nathan wasn▓t the type to carry money...He paid with everything in either debit or credit. It was more reliable.

Nathan took a seat by the window and flirted with the waitress while she wrote down his order. The day was extraordinarily bright outside. He ordered a roast beef sandwich on rye bread.

Then his phone rang, and in a matter of moments the cheerfulness was gone.

At first he was merely irritated that his lunch was interrupted and by the fact that everyone seemed to be calling him as of late. "Hello?"

"...gent...Rad--"

"Ray?" The voice was unmistakably the kid▓s, but there was too much static to make out anything else.

"...es."

"Yes?"

"...yes..."

"What are you doing? I▓m eating lunch. Where are you anyway? Are you over any of the bridges?" His exasperation was still there...Nathan had told Ray a number of times that the phone didn▓t work if he went over bridges.

"...o..."

"Where are you?"

"...don▓t know...is...etter now?"

"Yes, a little... Wait...yeah. Stay like that..." Nathan was beginning to be concerned. If Ray didn▓t call just to ask him questions, then why did he call? And he couldn▓t pretend not to hear the note of apprehension in Ray▓s voice.

"I▓m in a...ark room...c...t see..."

Only a fraction of the word was being cut off now, so Nathan could understand well enough. "How did you get there?"

"...rik."

The name was unmistakable, and Nathan felt his hand clutch his cell phone tighter. Erik had Ray...When had this happened? Right under his nose?? Damn Erik to Hell...and back, if possible!

Nathan gritted his teeth and stood, nearly colliding with the waitress...who backed away in bewilderment...but he didn▓t even take notice. "Listen to me, Ray...you have to tell me where you are..."

"I ca..t...tell. Dark...musty...may...e...cellar..."

"Figure it out! Don▓t you see anything at all??"

"No..."

"How did this happen?" It was hard to take in air. All of his optimism faded away with each wave of static...Why did this happen? That was his real question...if Erik had Ray, then there was no way that Nathan could call the police now...

Erik would not hurt Christine, but he would surely kill Ray. Nathan was not stupid...and he had no doubts about that.

"I was unconsci...n▓t remember..."

He tried not to let the kid hear the defeat in his voice. With both Ray and Christine, Nathan could not touch him... "Try to get out of there, kid...look around...do you see anything? A door? A window? Nothing? Try for loose stones...no? Are you sure?"

My God...

But...

Why would Erik kidnap Ray if he still had Christine? The girl would distract him too much...She had before. Erik had been careless, a few times... But that was what happened when a man let his guard down...

"No...ater dripping..."

"Water?"

"...es."

"Taste it. Is it metallic? Bad? Anything?"

There was a pause. A long, significant pause that made Nathan▓s palms feel sweaty. "Ray?"

No answer...All that Nathan could hear was static...not even the occasional disruption... "Ray! I can▓t hear you...move away from where you are...go back to where it was clear..."

A click, and then nothing...The line was dead.

Nathan slammed the cell phone down on the table...where it cracked. "Dammit!!"

Why?? Why did bad things happen to good people? Pathetic Ray...trapped God knows where. He might as well be dead already! And poor Christine, who most likely never suspected any of to ever happen, or ever saw it coming. They didn▓t deserve to be caught up in this... Erik was insane, completely and utterly mad, and this would ultimately lead to destruction...Nathan could feel it. His gut instinct...

Poor Nathan, who only really wanted to be promoted, recognized for his hard work, and to get the nice corner office.

And Damn Erik.

Seething, Nathan stalked out into the sunny day with his broken cell phone to seek out where Christine Daye might have gone had she actually escaped. 


	19. Horror, Horror, Horror

The days didn▓t pass quickly for Christine, and she liked it that way. The time that she spent at home was so different than when she was in the city...relaxing...

Christine was not a city person, and she resented the danger and disorder. She▓d forgotten how much she missed the farm and her years here. This was such a direct contrast to her new life: calm, beautiful, and even a bit surreal...compared to the pollution and discourtesy she▓d come across in New York. Not that the city wasn▓t beautiful in it▓s own way, but the only reason that Christine had gone away for school was because of her parent▓s request in order to have a better education and a solid job...

Right now, she was glad to be back. She avoided as much as possible the questions about when she needed to return to school... It was easy enough, and eventually she simply told her parents that she was on a break before the art show. She told them about how one of her paintings had made it into the gallery. Their happiness, for some reason, made her feel miserable and unbelievably guilty. She said nothing of Erik...and nothing of her dilemma and her fears...

Not a thing.

Christine also tried to keep away from thoughts of Erik, but that was not as easy. Everything continued to remind her of him...and even though he▓d let her go in the physical way, she still felt like he had some sort of hold over her mind. It wasn▓t as strong as it was while she had stayed with him...there were miles between them now. But...she felt a mental pull some nights, as she watched the sun go down from her bedroom window, and then the gauze curtain shone transparent in the moonlight...

She remembered him...the rare smiles that he would give her, the light kisses...his gentle hands on her shoulders...

...And holding her suspended over the balcony... Christine felt the cold air now...whipping up the bottom of her shirt and chilling her to the bone. She remembered the cold stone against her back. Every detail was present in her mind...details that she wished to forget all the more...and Erik▓s face...

The memory of his face was always the one to make not wish to remember...and for a few hours, she wouldn▓t. Then something so simple would remind her once more...like a rose in the garden... Erik would leave a rose by her dinner plate every night.

She▓d been ecstatic. "Oh, Erik! My favorite flowers are roses!"

Erik had been standing behind her at the time, and he▓d taken the rose from her gently and turned it around in his hand...brushing the velvety petals along her cheek. "All roses have thorns, Christine... all of them but you." And she▓d seen how painstakingly he▓d cut off every thorn so not to prick her finger...

In a small box that she▓d left at the hotel, every rose petal was kept.

The thought was now far too much to bear. He▓d been so different then...and Christine did not want to realize that she was responsible for his change...and for the violence and the horror of that night...

So she did not. Her mind wiped clean all the horrendous events, and she went horseback riding, boating, and held her mother▓s sewing basket with peace of mind and tranquility that eventually eased her parents▓ worry. But the serenity was not to last very long.

The day of horrors began only a week after Christine had arrived on the small farm.

After getting dressed, she came downstairs, kissed her mother and father each on the cheek, and sat in her place at the table. She was about to make a giggling remark to her father on his cooking techniques when she saw it...

There was a rose in front of her.

Christine froze momentarily and then her eyes lifted to look at her parents, who were busy talking and hadn▓t even notice her alarm. She didn▓t touch the rose but stared down at it in fascination and uneasiness. Christine wasn▓t exactly scared, but...the image brought back so many memories...

But she knew that her parents could not have known this. They had only placed it there for her because they remembered that roses were her favorite...

Her father then looked at her...and saw the rose. For a moment his expression registered surprise, and then delight. "Christine, did you bring that in? I didn▓t even know that the roses were blooming yet..."

It was only when her mother looked at her with an equally questioning expression that Christine felt the cold fingers of dread squeeze her heart. She picked up the rose...too tightly, but did not notice as she took a vase from the cabinets and filled it with water. Impassively, she placed the rose inside...and only then noticed the blood on her hand from the thorns.

All roses have thorns, Christine...

...All of them but you...

The phone rang and Christine gasped and seized the edge of the counter as if for protection.

As her father stood from the table, he watched her with concern...but answered the phone. "Hello? ...Yes, she▓s here. One moment, please..." He held the phone out for Christine as he tried to hide the worry in his face...and failed. "It▓s for you...I think it▓s Ray..."

For a moment, she was still...but then she came forward and took the phone from him. Christine watched as her father returned to the table, and she tried to make herself look steady as she left the kitchen, found a place to sit on the couch in the living room, and gathered a pillow in her lap... She couldn▓t speak to Ray in front of her parents. The last thing that she wanted was her mother or father▓s suspicion that something was wrong. It was becoming too difficult to lie to them.

For a few minutes Christine simply listened to the silence on the other ear and the soft breathing...and then she spoke. "H-Hello?"

"Christine?? Christine, it▓s Agent Radford...Nathan..." The voice paused. "You remember me, don▓t you?"

Christine was not sure whether she felt relief or apprehension that it wasn▓t Ray. "Yes, Mr. Radford...I remember you."

"Good." There was another hesitation on the other end, and Christine began to be aware of a slightly...uncomfortable feeling about this phone call...

"Mr. Radford...I can▓t stay on long, I have to have breakfast..." Christine▓s eyes flitted to the doorway nervously, and she kept her voice low so that she would not be overheard, and there was a strange dИjЮ vu in that...

"I understand. I suppose there is no easy way to say this..." The tone in his voice sounded truly sorry and sympathetic.

It was enough to make Christine▓s fingers dig into the pillow and hold tight. She didn▓t want to ask. A part of her wanted to hang up on Nathan right now and forget that he▓d ever called. "Say what?"

"Ray has been kidnapped."

Christine exhaled in a long sigh that was more like a gasp and bit back a cry. She could not cry now, her parents were still the other room... She closed her eyes tightly as she tried not to panic...tried so hard... But Ray...in the clutches of Erik! Nathan did not have to say it because Christine already knew! Her other hand rose so that she was holding the receiver with both hands, and Christine leaned far back on the couch so that she would not faint. "Oh...oh, God..."

Nathan▓s voice sounded very tiny and far away. "Christine...you must stay calm...keep listening to my voice...Stay calm..."

A small sob escaped despite her efforts. The room was not swimming as before, but it was very hard to keep her voice from shaking as she asked: "How did this happen?"

"I don▓t know...I▓m so sorry, Christine. But don▓t worry right now... We▓ll find him. You need to come back here as soon as possible. I don▓t think that...that Erik will let him go if you don▓t."

It was more than that, Christine felt it... She could sense the unspoken words behind the policeman▓s statement. Erik also might not let Ray live if she did not come back. She felt stiffness in her arms as her grip on the phone became impossibly tight...but Christine could not answer any other way. She was not selfish...and even as she feared for her life, she would never put Ray▓s in danger.

She was terrified of Erik▓s fury...of his face and of his eyes... She was afraid of what would happen to her if she returned to the world that he created and that she▓d abandoned. The thorns pricked her fingers now... What else would be there to welcome her? How could she willingly return?

How could she not?

A soft whisper was all of her voice that she could collect. "I will come back..."

"I▓m sorry for not coming out to get you, but I don▓t know how much time that we have..."

There was a hint in his words that Christine picked up. She needed to come as soon as possible... Erik might not wait to kill Ray.

From far off Christine heard herself speak, and her own voice sounded weary and dead. "I▓ll be there by tonight."

Nathan met her by her gate, and for some reason, Christine felt immensely relieved to see him. Compared to Erik, he was not powerful, but the fact that he was a policeman was enough to somewhat ease her anxiety.

In a childish fashion, Christine embraced him...and at first Nathan didn▓t seem sure of what to do, but then he slowly returned it...soothingly, and Christine found it to be comforting. There was no one else who could possibly reassure her at this point.

They both went to the terminal, and Nathan carried her bags for her. She followed him out to where his car was parked, got in, and buckled her seatbelt in silence. A few times she noticed him looking at her with something that might have been concern, but she didn▓t acknowledge it. She felt strangely disconnected... Deep down, there was a voice screaming at her, but she ignored it to the best of her ability. She could not panic now... How could she panic now? She would be no use at all to Ray if she allowed herself to be swallowed up by her terror...

"Do you know where he might be?"

Christine jumped at the sound of Nathan▓s voice and looked at him quickly. "No..."

Nathan was looking ahead as he drove; his eyes seemed focused on the tall buildings that they were approaching. "Think really, really hard...anywhere..."

"I don▓t know...I...the hotel room, maybe?" Christine did not recall Erik ever staying anywhere else or even mentioning it...

"No... He can▓t be there. It▓s already been found and combed for evidence."

It did not occur to Christine that Erik▓s room would ever be found, and she blinked with confusion. She had mixed feelings about it, really...disappointment that Ray could not be there, shock that Erik had been discovered and his things looked through...a bit of anger...though she couldn▓t understand that at all! Why would she mind now if Erik were found out in any way? After everything, she should be happy about it. But...Christine did not want him to go to jail...she never wanted that... And somehow, she knew that it would not end there. He▓d killed people... It could never end...

"How?"

Nathan glanced at her and hesitated...then shrugged. "The maid that let you out told them..."

So it had been her fault...somehow this seemed to break through Christine▓s shock for a moment...and she felt the screaming voice directly in her ears. "I-It was because of me?"

Taken aback, Nathan looked at her again. "No, no..." He didn▓t seem to have even suspected that telling her would be a bad thing, and now he looked a bit lost. "It▓s not your fault... It would have been brought to our attention eventually, somehow...Erik isn▓t perfect you know..."

Christine lowered her eyes and did not speak. She knew...

"Would you mind telling me what happened?"

The question was not one she wanted to answer, and so Christine▓s eyes remained on her hands. "I saw." There was no further explanation needed...that was enough. By those two words, Nathan would know everything, and Christine did not want to say anything more than that...She couldn▓t. She couldn▓t even begin to describe the horror of seeing and of knowing that everything was false, counterfeit...his looks, her feelings for him... She still wasn▓t sure where reality ended and the lies began. There seemed to be so many lies...

There was silence in the car for a long time until they were inside of the city, and Nathan▓s tone turned to one of desperation. "Anywhere would help us...anywhere at all...didn▓t he ever take you anywhere else? Or mention anything?"

"No..." But...the first night...the theater... Christine paused, a thoughtful look in her eyes.

Nathan noticed, and had to stop quickly to avoid missing the car in front of him. "What? No detail is too small...We have to work with whatever we can get..."

Christine still faltered... Why did she feel as though she was betraying Erik even now? He had Ray...and yet she hesitated telling his secrets. She pictured Ray tied up somewhere...in the dark, all alone, and waiting for someone to help him...and here she was: unsure! What sort of person was she?

But she could not feel regret right now...not for anything. "It▓s just that...when I first met him, he took me below a theater of some sort..."

"Where?"

Christine tried very hard to remember. It was difficult...everything from that night was hazy. "I don▓t know the streets, but..." A familiar alleyway caught her eye, and Christine sat up straight in her seat... "Go that way!"

Nathan halted in the middle of traffic and pulled down the street Christine indicated as the brakes squealed piercingly after them. 


	20. Reunion and Retribution

The theater had not changed from how Christine remembered it...or, more accurately, how she didn▓t remember it. She recognized the smell: the slow decay of wood rot and rust...and the way the black dust coated her fingers as she clutched the pole next to the downward spiral of stairs.

Nathan stood beside her and leaned over as he tried to look below. Christine did not look...She knew that they would see nothing. She remembered the blackness as well and the horror of not being able to see...It had been a blanket of night from all sides. Instead, Christine stared out into space, her eyes wide and blank, a victim of this most horrible circumstance...unsuspecting and unwilling to believe that there could be danger ahead.

From far away she heard Nathan▓s voice, but she still jumped when he placed a cold hand on her arm. "Are you okay? I want you to stay here. It▓s too dangerous..."

Christine blinked and looked at him as she drew in one, bold breath. "No." The word sounded like a gunshot in the echo back to them. The sound made her jump again...for all she knew, Erik could be directly below...and watching them at this moment...

"No?" Nathan▓s eyebrows drew together in anxiety, but his grip loosened slightly.

"No...I have to go with you... Erik won▓t let him go if I stay here." The lack of fear in Christine▓s voice shocked her. But any trepidation that she had ever felt had never been for her...she was afraid for Ray. The fact that Erik would not hurt her remained at the back of her mind as a comforting glow, and all she needed to do was remember it and her fear would fade a little.

There was a long silence in which Nathan tried to figure a way out of this. Christine could see the consternation in his face, the apprehension, and she felt a slight pity for this man that she barely knew. She didn▓t wonder why he hadn▓t called other policemen to his side...for Christine would not think of that herself, and so it only made perfect sense that he did not.

At last, Nathan took a flashlight from his bag and switched it on. He didn▓t say a word and held her arm as he led the way down the stairs. They squeaked and whined under their weight, and Christine gripped the sleeve of his shirt as she followed.

Within moments, the stairs ended at a large, hollowed-out room. She resisted the urge to cry out as the light flashed over shadowed corners...Christine could almost anticipate a glare of red eyes staring back, and practically expected to be swept away in a moment too fast to counter... never to see this world again...

Many corridors branched out in many different directions, as a maze of sorts. Nathan looked down at Christine. "Do you remember which one he took you down?"

All of them looked the same to her. Christine frowned for a moment, her eyes studying each, but...her gaze continued to rest on the one just opposite of the stairs. She recalled somehow that he▓d only gone forward. "That one."

The time when she actually may have loved Erik seemed far away...almost ridiculous... Christine berated herself for allowing the thought even to cross her mind. Her feelings for Ray were also very confused. She did not even want to begin to consider any of it. It was all too puzzling...she only knew how she was frightened of Erik, and that was what she needed to keep in mind.

And so Christine allowed Nathan to lead her towards doom, as she took small steps behind him and trembled as she watched the ray of light dance on the pathway ahead.

"Ray?" Nathan▓s voice reverberated off the walls loudly, and Christine▓s eyes shut tight...as if she expected a blow from an unknown, random direction.

Silence.

Christine spoke softly so that there would be no echo. "What if he isn▓t here?"

"It▓s worth a look...How far does this go?"

"I don▓t know."

A few more moments of silence passed, but Christine did not speak at all. Her fear mounted strangely and then disappeared again...as unexpectedly as it had come. She thought of her parents back at home...unsuspecting and perfectly at ease...believing their daughter to be safe. She thought of Ray, locked up somewhere and alone. But Christine did not think of Erik...she found it difficult to do so. Why that was... she didn▓t know. There were several reasons.

Nathan stopped. Christine felt her blood freeze in her veins, and she dared not look ahead of them. "What is it?"

Handing her the flashlight, Nathan knelt and touched something on the ground. "I don▓t know...it looks like a door handle. Aim the light right here...where my hand is."

The light briefly went over Nathan▓s hand and shone onto a metal handle...a door...

Without wasting a moment, Nathan wrapped both hands around the handle and pulled upward. The door made a scratchy metal sound as it opened, and Christine winced. Nathan noticed the noise as well and paused. Then he went slower in an effort to be quieter. After a moment of strain, he finally dropped it to the ground, opening it up completely...a hole in the floor of the cellar. He took the flashlight from her and shone it inside. "Ray?"

Christine leaned over the side and tried to see...but the beam just reflected back to them, off the surface of water. It did not seem to be very deep. Distantly, she heard a dripping sound. Something told her that what they were looking for was here, not ahead of them... where Erik had taken her before.

Apparently thinking the same, Nathan▓s voice lowered. "We need to go down in there. I▓ll go first." Without waiting for a response, he handed Christine the flashlight.

Holding it tightly in both hands, Christine tried to keep it steady as Nathan positioned himself in the open hole with both of his hands on either side as he slowly lowered himself down. He dropped a few feet when he could hold no longer, and she heard a small splash of water. Then he looked back up at her...the water in the cellar didn▓t go any higher than his knees. When he reached up for the flashlight, Christine had to lean all the way down into the hole...and even then, she could barely hand it to him. Without looking around, Nathan put the flashlight in his pocket and held his arms up to her. Christine uncertainly attempted the same thing he▓d done...but her poor arms were not strong enough to hold her weight for long. Then she felt his hands on her waist, and she let go.

Nathan caught her with no trouble and set her down on the side of the room by the wall, where the water only came to her calves. She was distantly grateful that she was wearing a skirt.

Silently, Nathan took the flashlight from his pocket and looked around. The walls were stone, dripping water, and for a moment Christine thought that she saw something that looked like recognition in his eyes... Then he lowered the flashlight, and it caught a glare of something white.

Ray was slumped on the floor in the corner, gagged and bound, his head dropped forward on his chest. He was half submerged in the water, which was rising at what seemed to be an alarming rate. Christine▓s heart nearly stopped at the sight of him. If they had come even an hour from now... "Ray--!"

But Christine barely had time to make a noise before she felt a pair of strong arms around her, and the light from Nathan▓s flashlight disappeared with the thud of a closing door.

Her feet made contact with dry floor, carpeted. Christine knew who held her, and her voice was no more than a whimper. "Erik!" She jerked in an attempt to get away, and right as she did, he let her go. With a cry, she fell backwards onto the carpet.

When she looked up, she was able to take in the room in only a few moments. It was large, and there was a futon and tables with papers on them...but she could not see what they were. The floor was carpeted a deep red and all black covered the walls. There were many black velvet curtains...and music written in red ink that was only slightly discolored with age. In some places newer music was written again, on top of the older.

Then her frightened gaze sought Erik, who was only a few feet away.

Unmoving, he towered above her, and he was wearing the mask that she▓d met him in. Black, impassive...though his eyes were turbulent, and darkly focused on her. "I knew you would come back to me."

Christine▓s hands found the wall behind her and she pulled herself to her feet. "No...No I haven▓t! I came for Ray." Her eyes were wide and stared back at him accusingly. "You hurt him."

"But you have...you came right to me." Erik began to come closer, and Christine found that she could not move. She was against the wall, and Erik▓s eyes held her in place. "And I haven▓t hurt him. Not yet."

With a small gasp, Christine looked at him with horror. Even after everything, she had somehow hoped that he would simply let Ray go. "You won▓t hurt him..."

Much to her relief, Erik paused, and he looked at her rather thoughtfully."Perhaps not. After all, you did make me a promise... And if, perhaps, we were to leave right now, I wouldn▓t have the chance."

For a moment, Christine was not sure what he meant by that. Leave with him? That conversation she hardly remembered...it seemed so long ago. Years at least...or as though it had never happened at all!

But it had...and Christine knew in that moment that it sealed her fate. "Leave...?"

"We▓re going away together, Christine. You and I. Far away." Erik spoke matter-of-factly and without moving from where he stood...but that seemed to make it all the more terrifying.

"No...no, we▓re not..." Christine▓s protests remained soft in her fear. She struggled to stay composed, for she remembered all too well what happened when she panicked. "You can▓t...you▓ll be caught. Nathan▓s here..."

He was so still; Christine was trembling. "I know he▓s here. I know you brought him here. I know everything you told him. I know everything you▓ve done, Christine. Each and every betrayal."

Against her will, Christine▓s face flushed, and she breathed in sharply. "I didn▓t do anything but go home, Erik! I didn▓t plan on coming here until...until you kidnapped him!" If nothing else, that was the truth. Christine had not wished to ever return again.

Erik laughed, but there was disgust in his voice, and cruel sarcasm...or mockery, "Please." Again, he began to move, and Christine once more found her back to the wall. "Your home is with me, now."

Christine stayed put as she watched him approach, but kept her eyes fixated. She faced her fear in the only way that she knew how. "No...no, let him go!" He continued towards her without a pause, and Christine rapidly began to lose her nerve. "Erik..."

Only when he was directly before her did Erik stop, his eyes still on hers, unrelenting. "So desperate, Christine? There is no need. He▓ll go. They▓ll both go. After we go."

How was it possible to believe him? She couldn▓t trust what he said. How could she when he▓d lied to her before? How did she know he would do what he claimed he would? How could she risk Ray▓s life...or give her own when there were no guarantees of their safety?

"No! I won▓t leave them there!" He was so close, and it was beginning to scare her all the more. Christine retreated even further; her back brushed the wall this time.

In a swift movement, Erik took her arms and turned her around so that the wall was not there to shelter her anymore. She jumped and twisted his grip, but he was unyielding. "You would rather stay and wait for them to drown?"

Christine paused, bewildered, and for a moment did not try to struggle. "Drown?"

When she stopped Erik let her go. "It is your choice."

Without the wall behind her, Christine felt weak, unprotected, and her knees shook... It was by some miracle that she did not slip to the floor. "Erik...what are you talking about? How could they drown?"

There was a trace of amusement in Erik▓s tone, and he spoke vaguely, in a way that made her briefly wonder if he had truly lost his mind. "The tide is coming in."

Even though it hardly made sense, Christine knew what he meant. She recalled the dripping water. At the rate that it had been steadily increasing, it would cover them in hardly any time at all! "Erik...don▓t hurt them, please! They have nothing to do with this!"

And they didn▓t! Christine knew that it wasn▓t Ray▓s fault... not what she did...or Nathan▓s. Everything had been her decision. But now they were in danger because of her...their lives were at stake...and everything was in her hands.

Erik knew this, and he watched her. "Then leave them behind, Christine. Leave them right now. Come with me as you promised."

Stubbornly, Christine shook her head. "No! I won▓t leave them! I made that promise to you not of my own free will! You...you tricked me into it! I won▓t go! Let them go!" She heard her voice rise in hysteria on the last word, and she backed away from him again, prepared to flee... But to where, she didn▓t know. There was only one door in the room.

As she went backwards Erik came forward...advancing on her in the same manner he had on the night she▓d taken his mask. "More "tricks," Christine?" He shook his head, in condescending disappointment. "When will you ever start taking responsibility for your own actions? You will go. Or I won▓t let them go."

"No! How can I trust you to let them go once I go with you?" She turned her head slightly and looked at the door. There was a faint light inside of the room, but she could see nothing else. "No...I won▓t go with you!" And in a moment of terrified hopelessness, Christine made a mad dash for the room.

She was surprised that he actually allowed her inside. Immediately she saw that it was a study of sorts; a black grand piano took up much of it. The floor was mahogany wood, with a carpet that looked oriental and stretched across the room in an ornate pattern. The few pieces of furniture were nicer than in the other room. There was a desk on one side, and everything was neat, orderly, and very beautiful...but Christine was too frantic to take notice.

Erik followed her but stopped in the doorway, leaning inside with his hands on the frame. His eyes followed her as she stopped in the middle of the study.

There were no other doors, and no way out. Once again Christine was trapped...but merely in a different room.

"I think that we can both agree that 'trust' is no longer a convention between us."

Startled, Christine turned at the sound of Erik▓s voice and backed up at the same time towards the fireplace...but somehow she lost her balance in the folds of the rug and fell again. This time, she fell hard onto the wooden floor...though Christine managed to turn and catch herself. Her hands slipped only a little but slid into the fireplace...

Behind her, she heard Erik drawing nearer. "If you are looking for a way out, you will not find it. The only way out is with me."

The movement of her hand disturbed gathered soot and ash inside of the fireplace, and Christine coughed slightly, still turned away from Erik. Then she saw something glinting...caught in the weak light. And her hand was so close...so Christine snatched the item from the dust at the exact same moment that Erik took her shoulder to bring her away.

Christine did not object. She was too busy staring down at what was in her hand.

It was a badge. Blackened, she saw the name of the Plaza Hotel in what was once scripted gold. It was a nameplate: Anna Gonzalez. For a moment Christine was confused...why did the name sound familiar? And how did this come to be here...?

Christine looked up at Erik; he knelt by her now. She wasn▓t sure what she meant to accuse him of. "You...?"

Erik looked down at her hand, then idly took the nametag from her and tossed it back into the fireplace. "Haven▓t you learnt yet to keep your hands out of trouble, Christine?"

In a horrifying flash of realization, she felt her heart plummet to her stomach and her vision swim before her eyes. Christine cried out and withdrew far from him...crawling backwards across the carpet. She knew how the badge had come to be in the fireplace. She remembered to whom it belonged. The maid who had let her out of the room was named Anna.

It was then that she noticed extra fabric mingled with the ashes. It was fabric that had not been burned completely...her clothes...

"You killed her! You..."

In an illusion that Christine clung to up until this moment, Erik was not a murderer. He hadn▓t ever done anything of the sort. They were wrong...even after she believed them about him being dangerous. But she▓d always told herself that they were wrong about Erik▓s past.

But she couldn▓t believe that now. The last of her dreams faded away, and this time she let them go.

From where he was, Erik did not look away from her, but did not pursue her either. Instead, he dusted off his hands. "You left me."

Wanting to get away from the fireplace, Christine pushed herself to her feet, but her dizziness hadn▓t yet passed and she stumbled back against the wall. Her voice was on the verge of breaking, and panic-stricken. "You are all that they say you are! You are going to kill us all!!"

As soon as she touched the wall Erik lunged at her and pulled her away from it. As before he turned her, but kept her in place firmly...grounded so that Christine could not cower away from him. "Not you, Christine. I have far too much planned for you before you can even think about dying."

Christine screamed now, terrified of him and of all the horrors that he was capable of. "No! I don▓t want anything to do with this, or with you! I want you to let them go...you▓re insane...you▓re a murderer! You kept it all from me!!"

Erik shook her fiercely to make her stop, and his own fury made her fall silent in fear. "I shared everything with you!"

Shaking, Christine recoiled as much as possible in Erik▓s grip. "No...you kept it all hidden! I knew nothing!" With instant strength she started to push against him, repulsed, but her hands shoved pointlessly against his chest. "Let go of me! Don▓t touch me!"

Erik ignored her, but his voice grew quieter, and gentle. "It didn▓t matter. Weren▓t you happy? We will be that way again. None of this matters. Nothing has changed!"

Christine started to cry helplessly. "It has all changed! I didn▓t know you before...and I know you now. It was a mistake...please...just stop this!"

Suddenly, Erik pushed her away a little, but kept one of her wrists in his grip so that she could not run. "Only you can stop this. I told you, it▓s up to you."

"It is not up to me! If it were up to me, you would let them all go!" Christine thought of Ray...and Nathan...trapped behind the other wall. They were so close to her and yet so far. "I want to see him! I want to talk to him!"

Erik glanced at the door to the other room, but then his eyes returned to her and he laughed. "You might try, but it could be too late by now." He drew her closer slowly, and Christine did not have the strength to fight him. "Your stubbornness is toying with their lives, Christine."

Little by little, she sank to his feet, and he released her arm. Christine raised her tear-stained face up to him, her hands clutching one another in desperation. "Erik...please, I▓ll do anything if you just let us all go!"

He leaned down to her, expressionless for a moment. "▒Anything▓? I don▓t want ▒anything▓ from you, Christine. You will go with me. How does that sound? I will let all of you go...and in return, you will go with me."

For a moment Christine considered accepting. She drew in her breath...but the feel of the ashes on her fingers made her stomach turn, and she couldn▓t make herself say it. "I will not! What will happen once I go with you? How will I know that you would let them live??" He bent so close! Christine moved away, just slightly. "Stop..."

But Erik continued forward as she leaned back, and his voice was maliciously sarcastic. "You could keep up a correspondence. How do you like that, Christine? You could be pen pals."

Christine gripped her fingernails into the carpet. "No! You have no control over me...I don▓t belong to you!" She spoke forcefully, but there was no resolve in her voice. Not with him so close. Christine closed her eyes tightly... She could hardly speak, and felt so vulnerable underneath his scrutinizing gaze. "Please...how can you do this? How can you possibly?? If you loved me at all..."

In a movement she could not avoid, Erik leaned down to where Christine was kneeling and he lifted her to her feet. She started to struggle but the ominous malevolence in Erik▓s tone stopped her. "If I loved you? And what could your betrayal have cost me, Christine? Did you even think about it for a moment before you ran off and let the entire police force know where I was? No deception of mine has ever harmed you." His voice dropped to a sinister whisper...and was directly in her ear as Christine tried to turn her head away. "...I think that the ultimatum should be if you loved me."

At this point, Christine was finally beginning to lose hope. She could move no further. She met his gaze, looked straight into his eyes, and her voice was quiet and very cold. "I do not love you."

Now that she was standing Erik released her, and folded his arms. "You did." There was an audible threat in those words. "And you will."

"No...I won▓t! And you can▓t make me!" Her voice lacked conviction before, but now Christine forced it forward. She cast a brief glance to the fireplace, and the shaky feeling in her stomach increased. "What did you do...?"

"Enjoyed the warmth of their company."

At the morbid joke, Christine turned and rushed back to the other room without a word. She couldn▓t bear to see the fireplace and look at him in the eye. It was far too much.

Once she was inside the first room, Christine had to turn again...the idea of keeping her back to Erik frightened her.

With unhurried grace, Erik followed, and when she turned his eyes met hers. "You will, Christine. Because you don▓t really have a choice, do you?"

Christine realized that he was speaking of her loving him. She did not reply this time, but turned only a little to the wall, and her hands searched along the surface for any sort of opening. "Where are they?"

Erik▓s gaze drifted up the length of the wall, past her hands. "Floating far past your reach by now, I▓m sure."

Stunned, Christine turned back to him, her words lost in a strangled sob. "Oh, God! Erik!"

Erik▓s eyes returned to her, and his voice was icy. "What can I say, Christine? I warned you. You cannot accuse me of deceiving you here."

It was becoming very obvious that there was nothing Christine was able to do to stop him. She stood frozen, shocked, like a small child who had finally been told that the world held true evil...and that the only good in it had turned against her. She was all alone and losing the only battle that she had ever fought. Her pleas fell on deaf ears, and Erik refused to hear her...he did not hear her...no one would hear her. She would be trapped with him for all eternity, sacrificing her own life for Ray and Nathan...if they were even still alive. They could be long dead. They could have drowned inside that tiny room...all alone...

Erik was wrong. Things had changed, and they could never be the same. She felt something in her mind shift...and became aware of a building hatred and disgust... Christine▓s hands clenched a little at her sides as her tears of sadness and fear turned to something she had never thought herself capable of feeling.

Softly, ever so softly...Christine▓s voice was nearly inaudible. "I hate you. I hate you..." There was a certain freedom in those three words, and her voice began to rise gradually. "I hate you. I hate you!" A vision of Ray trapped, bound...her screams and tears...her anger grew, and it was from a distance that she heard her shouts. "I hate you!! I...hate...you..." Christine was crying, but her voice did not catch. It was steady and very sure of itself. "I hate you more than anything. I wish that I never met you. Never!"

The silence that descended on the room was loud and sudden.

The spell was broken. 


	21. The End

It was only when Nathan called for Christine's assistance that he realized she wasn't there anymore. He lifted the flashlight and looked in every direction, but the room was empty, and he hadn't seen or heard a thing.

Cursing, Nathan whirled back to the unconscious kid and grabbed him by the front of his jacket. Ray was cold underneath his touch, but he knew that he wasn't dead. "Ray! Ray, wake up. Come on. You have to wake up." The water was starting to lap around his upper thighs and was consistently growing higher. He shook Ray again.

The kid's eyelashes moved, and he groaned. "...Christine..."

Hoisting him to an upright position, Nathan leaned Ray against the stone wall and held him in place. Now that he was waking up, Ray was able to hold himself upright. Nathan took his tied hands tightly and squeezed them, not really to comfort, but to make them warmer. Every inch of Ray's body was ice cold, and a shiver accompanied every breath he released.

Nathan held him in place with one hand while he worked the binds that held his hands together. They were tied nicely, and he was rather surprised that Erik had taken the time with it. He wouldn't have to tie him up to ensure he drowned... Unless...

The door!

"Come on. We have to hurry." Nathan set the damp ropes aside and aimed the flashlight up. Yes! The door was still open! If he could lift Ray and reach it, perhaps he could wait until the water rose high enough and then escape himself. They were of no use to Christine here.

"Where is...Christine?"

"She's fine, Ray." Nathan lied, but it was the lesser of two evils. The most important thing to do was get out. "I'm going to lift you up, okay? See that door up there? Look." Nathan held the flashlight and pointed to the square of light above them. Ray looked, but his eyes didn't seem to see. "Right there. Here, you can hold the flashlight... When I pick you up, I want you to grab the side of it and lift yourself out. I can only push you so far." Nathan didn't wait for a response but bent below the surface of the water and took Ray by the knees. The kid was light, and he lifted him with no trouble at all.

As soon as he was fully standing again, Nathan shouted up at him, "Take the sides! Hurry!"

The last word barely had time to register before he heard a slam above them and Ray's frustrated exclamation.

Nathan nearly toppled underneath Ray's sudden movement, and the glare of the flashlight shone in his eyes. "What??"

"The door's closed!"

Erik.

"Fuck!" Resisting the aggravated urge to just drop Ray, Nathan slowly lowered him back again. He was shaking with anger

Ray put his hands against the wall to steady himself, and he took a moment to completely assess the situation. He must have been unconscious for a very long time. "Tell me where Christine is..."

The flashlight had fallen from Ray's hand, and Nathan fished it out of the water and flashed it up again. The ceiling was mere stone now, and there was no evidence of there ever being a door there at all. He circled the edges of the room, slowly and pushed against each stone slab with all the fore of his weight.

"Where is she?"

Nathan turned and shone the flashlight at Ray. "He has her...but right now we have to worry about getting out. We can't help her until we get out." He pronounced and drawled out each word to signify the importance.

It worked. The fact that Erik might have Christine was what gave Ray the initiative to move away from the wall and help Nathan search. Both of them worked at it, pushing at any crevice that seemed odd or out of place, and investigating every piece of stonework that stuck out from the rest.

Muffled cries came from the other room as they reached the center of the room. Ray and Nathan stopped together, and both leaned closer to listen. It was impossible to make out words...but it was unmistakably Christine's voice being answered by someone speaking too softly for them to hear.

Ray was not able to help himself. "Christine!"

"She can't hear you," Nathan whispered, but he didn't bother to shush the kid. It didn't make a difference now who heard them. Erik already knew that they were there.

"There has to be another way out of this room!"

Nathan did not answer, but the tired look that he gave Ray was enough to show his thoughts on the matter. If Erik wanted them to drown, then they would. It was as simple as that. They were trapped rats. Christine was their only hope now, and by the sound of the cries in the other room...she was not getting very far.

Now there was silence.

Ray was pressed against the wall, listening intently. "I can't hear anything..."

The water was up to their waists now.

Beginning to shiver himself, Nathan flattened his body against the wall. He knew that it was deeper in the middle... It was best to stay on the sides. "Can you swim?"

Indigent, Ray gave him a look. "Of course I can swim."

"Good, because we're about to."

At Ray's horrified expression, it was quite obvious that he hadn't considered the fact that the water would continue to rise. He slid his hands alongside the wall, where it was steadily dripping, and looked upwards. "Where is all of this coming from??"

"Pipes...see?" Nathan centered the beam of the flashlight on very small but noticeable black holes. They were positioned around the ceiling, but only along the walls...so that the pipes outlined the room. The flow of water gave Nathan the impression of a waterfall...especially when it began to increase...

The room was about eleven feet tall and twenty feet across... It was easy enough to calculate. It would be about ten minutes before it was filled completely, and then there would be no more air. The gush of water would stop only when the fissures in the room were filled. Both of them would drown, and Christine would never even know.

"He really wants to kill us, doesn't he?"

Nathan looked at Ray rather sadly. The kid was no more than twenty...and had already come face to face with something like this. More than likely he'd never met anyone who actually wanted his life to end. It was frightening...and maliciously evil. It wasn't fair for him to get caught up in this, with Erik's twisted games of jealousy...or with his perverse ideas of right, wrong, and justification! Ray was completely innocent. He'd done nothing to deserve this, but...the brave defeat in his eyes gained Nathan's respect.

So he wanted to give Ray hope. "We have a chance. If anyone can talk him out of this, it's her."

"But what will he make her do?"

"He thinks that he's in love with her. He's obsessed...I don't know what he would make her do. We can only wait...and pray, if that's your thing."

Leaning his head against the icy wall, Ray took a few short breaths. "I wish that I could talk to her. I want to tell her..." He stopped.

As he looked at Ray's pale face, Nathan completely and beyond any shadow of a doubt, despised Erik. He didn't hate him for what he'd done. No...he hated him: the very person that Erik was...if he was really even a person! How could anyone do this to another human being? So coldly...and so calculating! If he was his friend at all, how could he leave him to die? It wasn't as though Nathan had betrayed him first! If Erik had only kept that damned promise! It really was not that difficult...

Nathan felt the pressure increasing...something in the water gave way, and it suddenly surged to their necks. "Get ready. Start treading water if you have to!"

Being shorter than Nathan was, Ray was already doing so, and he clung to the cracks of the wall and held on, moving with rising water... There was a current now, and it was going fast. Ten times as fast as before.

Alarmed, Nathan kept the flashlight above the water with one hand. "He must have done something!"

"Done what??"

As if it wasn't obvious! Nathan grabbed the boy's sleeve and drew him closer. "Stay by me. We need to be prepared for anything."

The chill was getting to him now; Nathan felt it deep in his bones. He knew that it must be worse for Ray, but the kid didn't complain. He could have been numb by then...

Both of them treaded water in unison now, and they gripped the side of the room as the water swirled around them.

The ceiling was getting far too close.

With a feeling of impending doom, Nathan glanced over at Ray, and he couldn't help but feel a genuine sense of sympathy. Ray's certainty of death was present in his eyes...as well as the awareness of the hopelessness in this situation. Usually...everything would be enough to send anyone into shock...but there was no fear that Nathan could see. There was only acceptance. Ray was willing to die for this girl. He must have known that from the beginning...that this was a possibility... It was more than Nathan had expected from him.

With a tentative grin, Nathan moved his hand and shook Ray's. "It was nice working with you, kid. I always liked you."

Ray did not feel so comfortable dying. He smiled a little, hesitantly. "I thought I got on your nerves."

"Nah...I've just been on edge. As you can understand."

Either of them would be able to touch the ceiling if they extended one hand.

"I wish that I'd at least gotten to fight him fairly."

Nathan looked at Ray for a moment, but spoke honestly, "There is no fair with Erik. There never has been...and there never will be. But I can assure you...if you fought him fairly, you would have lost."

For a moment Ray looked annoyed, then he just shrugged. "Maybe. But at least I would have lost fairly."

Another increase of water brought the ceiling to their heads. "Get ready to hold your breath." He smiled again, and in a slight self-depreciative nature. "Good luck, kid."

Up to the moment right before their heads went under, Nathan had not considered his own death. He felt pity for Ray...because he was young. Nathan was not old, but he was older...and he'd felt as though he lived longer. But what was living? His wife's death ended his life long ago...and he felt a vague relief in the moment when he could no longer reach air. He held his breath, but kept his eyes open. The flashlight was flickering dangerously, but he held it tightly in his hand anyway...even though he could see nothing. Nathan had stared Death in the eye many times and laughed, and he did laugh--silently...finally, he would die. He would never seek out death...but it finally found him, and while he did not completely welcome it...he would not run either. His wife would be waiting for him.

The flashlight went out.

A millisecond after that, Nathan felt something cold, and then he was breathing again.

The water...the water was lowering...

Ray was gasping next to him, and Nathan felt a violent jerk of current as the water swelled downward, and he was pulled away from the wall with Ray. He grabbed onto the kid and tried to push him back again, to hold on, but he lost his grip and then couldn't see him anymore. "Ray! Ray, grab the wall!" He managed to yell, but his voice was lost in the noise of the water as it swept downward.

A few times, his hand collided with the wall, or perhaps it was Ray... He couldn't tell, but at one point he found Ray again and held on.

Then he felt the floor underneath him again. The water had lowered so quickly that it was nearly drained, but it was going too fast! There must be a pipe opened in the floor... Nathan felt another suction, and he was suddenly...inside the floor... and in the pipe! Ray was next to him, but a bit underneath him...and he felt the kid's hands pushing him up as gallons of water rushed around him and down on Ray. Only a few more seconds and it would be over!

A final push from Ray sent him upwards, and Nathan lifted himself out. He sprawled onto the floor and away from the final pull of water.

Not taking time to recover, Nathan turned quickly to grab Ray, his head swimming, but he felt only air. The pipe was empty.

And the room was drained.

The rush of water carried Ray through the pipes several yards underground...underneath the street, many buildings, and people walking above him, who had no idea of what was passing beneath their feet. His body traveled all the way to an open drain, where it emptied out into the New York harbor. But by then, Ray was long dead.

And Nathan, still holding his breath even though he could breathe, fell into unconsciousness with his hand remaining outstretched.

There was a long time in which Nathan was not aware of anything at all. It was only distantly that he saw shapes and dark shadows. He felt a cold hand on his forehead, and he pulled away from it... Several times, he tried to speak, but either he was unsuccessful or ignored. No answer came from the dark abyss.

After a long time, he realized that he was lying on a couch of some sort. He could see small pinpoints of light, and he heard voices. One was distinctly Christine's, but he never heard Erik. Again, Nathan tried to say something, but he was too exhausted to even move his jaw. For what felt like hours, he listened...his eyes open small slits...and the shapes gradually focused to become two people.

Christine was kneeling at Erik's feet, and she was crying. Her features were clouded, but Nathan could see the anguish in her movements as she looked up at Erik's dark shadow. It was impossible to see him at all...Erik's back was to him. Nathan realized that she must have been begging for him to let her go...and he struggled to move and help her, but it was only his fingers that stirred.

Their voices were becoming words...and he heard Christine speaking, in a very soft whisper: "Erik... I didn't mean it. I'm sorry..." The break was present in her voice, but it was what she said that confused Nathan more. What was she sorry for? Didn't she know that Ray was dead?

Ray was dead.

The monster moved, and Nathan's muscles tensed as if against an attack, but Erik only knelt to Christine's level. He did not touch her; there was an uncertainty that Nathan sensed. "Christine..."

The pale shape that was Christine shifted, and her hand moved as if she would reach out to him...but she did not. "I-I didn't mean it... I do care...I just..." The regret and horror in her voice was not for Ray...but it was not for Erik either. It was for all of them. She was trembling.

Erik took her hand instead, and he was shaking as well, much to Nathan's surprise. But even in his grogginess, he still wished to reach for the pistol and shoot him...tricks...he had too many tricks! This could be a trick right now... Erik could be taking advantage while she was weak...after Ray was dead, drowned! He could see that Erik was wet and knew that it was he who had pulled him from the torture chamber. He felt it in those last moments...he knew that Erik might have tried to save Ray. Or...made it appear to Christine as though he tried! But what if he had just watched? Watched...and laughed, silently...as he won...

Or could he be redeemed? Did he give in to her out of the regret and mercy of his warped heart?

Nathan could never know, not until he could manage to muster the strength and get up and speak! He fought harder, and his hand twitched...

Then he felt blackness beginning at the edges of his vision and closing in, little by little...

"I'm sorry... I'm so sorry, Christine..."

But was he?

Christine was crying even harder, and instead of shrinking away from Erik's touch, she leaned closer. The very man who had committed this crime comforted her! Comforted--Christine!! What could she be thinking?? Didn't she realize that Ray was dead...dead by Erik's hand and no other? It wasn't as though Ray tromped down underneath the theater of his own accord and asked to be killed!

"I'm sorry for leaving...for what I did..." Christine's head gently lay against Erik's chest, and he held her. She was very still as he did, sobbing piteously.

Nathan watched as Erik hushed her, drawing her closer. "No...no. Don't be..." There was only a slight tremor of self-loathing in his response, but Nathan felt triumph anyway when he heard it.

Guilt! Erik should feel guilty for what'd he'd done! He should hate himself, Nathan thought furiously.

When he attempted to make a sudden movement, in absolute rage and with the thought of retribution, he was sent back into the realm of unconsciousness.

It would be hours before he woke again in dark silence. He had been returned to his home, and the shades were drawn to keep out the rising sun... It was morning already?

Then all memories of the previous night returned, and Nathan practically fell out of bed as he made a dive for the telephone. The first number he dialed was the police, and then Christine's apartment...but her phone only rang and rang.

Well into the evening, the police searched the theater, underneath and all inside the corridors. The trapdoor that Nathan had discovered merely the day before seemed to have disappeared... When asked if he wished them to drill through the floor, Nathan told the policemen no. He knew that it would do no good...Erik was long gone. And while it would give Nathan the utmost pleasure to destroy and uncover Erik's home, he saw it as a waste of time...and he still had a rather annoying, grudging respect for the man who'd nearly killed him.

Ray's body was discovered earlier that afternoon, and a funeral was scheduled. Christine Daye was reported as missing.

There was still a vague feeling that it wasn't over.

But would it really ever be?


	22. Epilogue

A few months passed in utter silence. The old theater that had been condemned for so long was finally destroyed. All that was left of Erik's home was collapsed ruins, and yet nothing had been recovered from the rubble. All evidence of anyone ever living there had remarkably vanished. Forever. Those who knew the story of the underground home and Christine and Nathan's horrible descent into darkness now believed the infamous Agent Radford had finally lost his mind. It was a certain relief to them...infamy could never last long, and the fall is something that everyone secretly waits for in breathless anticipation.

Nathan did not wait long after that to leave the bureau. His heart wasn't in it anymore, or perhaps it never had been. He stood in his office for a long time with one cardboard box that held a dying ivy plant teetering dangerously on a stack of books, and he stared wearily at his empty office. The blinds were still torn and dusty, and the edges were nearly black.

"...You should invest in new blinds at least..."

Spinning around, Nathan dropped the box on the floor and his hand flew to the revolver that was no longer in his jacket.

His old boss stood behind him, and he blinked with confusion at Nathan's stunned expression. "What is it?"

Taking a moment to catch his breath, Nathan leaned back onto the desk and only then realized how his hands had been shaking. "...Nothing...I mean...did you say something just now?"

"Just that the blinds look a little rough. You spent way too much time in here." Concerned, but most likely relieved that Nathan was off the job, his boss looked at him for a long, tense moment. It was not in his nature to be kind, and he had no idea what to say...even to the one who'd once been his pride and joy... "Do you need anything else?"

The box was still lying on its side. The plant had shattered on direct contact with the carpet, and small bits of dirt were strewn to the door. "No...I'll clean this up... Sorry."

"Don't worry about it. I'll get it. Take it easy."

That was all the encouragement that Nathan needed. He gathered the box in his arms again and left without turning off the light. That would make it too final.

Since his years before high school, Nathan Radford had never been without a job. He had no idea what to do now...or where to go... The only thing that he did know was that he never wanted to work with the police force again. He felt unworthy... incapable... hesitating... If he hadn't hesitated, Ray might still be alive.

For some reason he felt like crying over that damned plant.

Europe was colder than he'd expected. Nathan had brought all of his clothes just to find that he had to wear half of them each night to keep from freezing. He didn't speak French or Italian, and while traveling through those countries he was constantly getting lost, led in random directions, and even cheated out of his money. By the end of the week, he hated the infernal continent more than anything else and wondered why he hadn't brought a translation dictionary.

Eventually, he settled in Paris for the remainder of his vacation that hadn't, in the beginning, even meant to be a vacation. For the past month, he'd explored most of Europe, searching for any sign of Erik or Christine among different places that he believed that Erik might be. Nathan knew him well enough to know that he would not have stayed in the country. Another clue came with the letters that arrived on Christine's farm, marked with foreign postage but with no return address. Her parents had turned in each of the letters, but no clues were found. Not even a fingerprint.

Around the time that Nathan gave up trying to find Erik, Erik found him.

It was appropriate, really. Nathan had not seen an opera since he'd gone with Erik. He had little interest in going again...but the hotel he stayed with provided a tourist package with free matinee tickets, and Nathan couldn't resist a good deal.

On his third night in Paris, he attended Faust. Not a box seat, it was in a far back section... He could barely even see the stage, but he was sure to buy a pair of opera glasses beforehand which, to Nathan's everlasting mortification, he mistakenly called "binoculars."

In his opinion, the show went rather well...if not a bit slow. But again, it was not Nathan's interest. Afterwards, he stood up, put his coat over his arm, and left.

He was about halfway to his waiting taxi when Nathan heard a voice behind him.

"Why do you not ride with us, old friend?"

With the same shock he'd experienced in his office so many months ago, Nathan turned...slower, this time... He had a sickening feeling in the pit of his stomach. Only one man had that voice.

Erik stood behind him, calm and matter-of-fact...as if it was not odd in the least. He was dressed nicely, the top of Parisian fashion. The mask was cold and black even underneath the streetlights, and the eyes behind it were fixated on Nathan's... What was that look? Triumph! Or amusement...or confidence...with a silent challenge?

However, Erik himself was not nearly as surprising as the woman on his arm.

It was unmistakably Christine. The serene face below the piled, curly hair was happy and open. She clung to Erik with small lace gloves intertwined in the black material of his jacket. White and Black... She was smiling only a little, but genuinely, and regarded Nathan with sweet familiarity. Christine's dress was elegant and fitted to her so perfectly that it was unquestionably custom made.

Nathan did not know what to say. For weeks he'd envisioned a scenario... What he wanted to say had been planned, and now he was at loss. "...Hello..."

The look in Erik's eyes was far too unreadable. His other hand moved over Christine's, so gently...and she accepted it with a tender smile as she gazed up at him adoringly.

"Come. You must visit with us for a time... What are the chances that we should run into each other?"

The celestial beauty in Erik's voice was something that Nathan was always capable of resisting...but his confusion and curiosity took away the walls of defense, and instead he followed them to their car. It was black, sleek, and with a hired driver.

They did not live far from the Opera. Nathan was sure to watch what streets that they turned onto...in case he would have to remember them later. But one look at Christine's hand settled comfortably on Erik's arm was enough to make him second guess himself. And everything... What had really happened? What had he missed? Was it possible that Christine was, indeed, with him because she wanted to be?

If not, she certainly had become a good actress.

It was only when Erik helped Christine from the car that Nathan noticed a gold band on her wedding finger, and he nearly started with astonishment. When did this happen...?

Their house was not small by any means, and at first glance, it became obvious to Nathan just who must have designed it. It was nearly three stories, built of stone instead of brick, and a garden had been started just along the side...

Christine pointed out the flowers with a childlike delight that even Nathan found charming. "They just started growing! I planted them only last week..."

Gently, Erik raised his hand and brushed her cheek with his fingers, an affectionate gesture that seemed natural and yet so odd... His words were directed to Nathan. "She insisted on starting it herself."

Without replying, Nathan followed them into the house and was promptly shown into the sitting room. Christine disappeared to make tea, and he was left alone with Erik.

Unnerved, the once FBI agent kept his hands on his knees. At Erik's unbroken stare, he knew that not all questions he wanted to ask would be answered. "When did you come here?"

"Only a few months ago. Christine wanted to settle... She was weary of the travel. I did not wish her to be uncomfortable."

Awkwardly, Nathan's voice trailed. "I suppose you wouldn't..."

With a steady rhythm, Erik's hand barely tapped the side-table. "You retired. That is unfortunate." It could have been sarcastic...but it was said in a way that left Nathan to take it however he pleased.

Christine returned to the room a moment later, and Nathan felt himself relax. He accepted a small porcelain cup of tea and watched as Erik thanked her lovingly. Christine paused and touched his hand... They made the picture of a perfectly happy, married couple. That was what made everything so unsettling.

So Nathan did not take his eyes from Christine. If she showed any signs of distress, he did not want to miss any of it. He wouldn't be able to tell if she was here of her own free will...unless she let him know in some way. It could all be fake...a faГade built out of fear and hopelessness...

Perhaps she could not escape...

Nathan kept his tone light. "This is an enormous house for only two people."

Blushing faintly, Christine met his eyes, but her voice was very soft and her hand remained on Erik's. "Soon to be three."

For a long moment the meaning of Christine's words did not register. Nathan stared at her with nothing less than absolute shock. He felt Erik's eyes burning into him, silently daring him to ask the question...to breathe a word about the past, in an attempt to ruin this bliss...this oblivion...

But Christine's eyes were clear, unassuming, and warm. She was happy here. She was happy...and he did not want to destroy that. He had known happiness once.

Nathan waited a long moment before replying, "Congratulations."

When he left the house, it was with a sense of emptiness. It was growing dark, and there was a lingering sound of laughter in the distance. Nathan paused on the street corner outside of Erik and Christine's home and inhaled slowly. Life was around him... Life was inside of that house, in one way or another...or would be... There was love, light, gentleness... There was no repression...and lies were not present... It was a world of magic, but free or not free of illusion...that was something that Nathan would never know.

Without a glance back at his enemy, rival, and conquest, Nathan continued onward towards the sunset.

_Fin_


End file.
